


Victims of Circumstance

by TheFlyingPotato



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Humor, Slow Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-11-06 10:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 47,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlyingPotato/pseuds/TheFlyingPotato
Summary: The Russian government dispatches a team of Special Operations Forces to rescue the passengers and crew of a missing yacht shipwrecked on an island in the 'Dragon's Triangle' when they suspect the work of terrorists. When the operatives themselves end up stranded on the island, and they receive the Endurance's SOS, they begin to suspect that there may be more to the mysterious circumstances that surround the island and the erratic storms that plague it.





	1. Prologue

Victims of Circumstance: Chapter 1 – Prologue

Major Vasily Beloi

Major Vasily Mikhailovich Beloi was not a particularly superstitious man. He was a religious man, but there were times that he wondered if the Lord would be particularly proud of what it was that he was doing with his life. Even so, he didn’t believe in ghosts, specters, curses or anything of the like. He sure as hell didn’t believe in mystical cursed islands that mysteriously sunk ships and brought down aircraft. He leafed through his briefing packet, anything to take his mind off the story he was a captive audience to, on account of the fact that he was connected to the same intercom as Lieutenant Morozov.

Usually their intelligence was very detailed, especially when it was a…sensitive matter, like this one. Missing civilian ships normally didn’t attract the kind of attention that got a team from the Special Operations Forces deployed. Missing civilian ships did get a team like his deployed when they were _Russian_ citizens, and when said area was not only notorious for having ships disappear, but was uncomfortably close to Russian, Chinese, Japanese and Philippine waters. The Philippines happened to have a working relationship with Russia, and the Chinese were not only fellow BRICS members but also defense allies.

While there were unstable elements working in the Philippines, no one was sleeping easy given the area. Said known terrorists were suspected for the missing ship, but as of yet there were no demands being made. It was his team’s job to get in, find out what was going on, and make sure that their citizens came back to them alive. If they were lucky, this was just an accident, and the worst that they would have to do is provide medical aid for the survivors. If they were not, then this was going to be a complete and utter shit show.

He’d been given express instructions not to fuck this one up. It had taken great effort to placate the Amerikantsy, who’d been extremely vocal in their displeasure of having a Russian special forces team so close to one of their installations, especially a unit like theirs, whose reputation preceded them. Major Beloi didn’t give a donkey’s ass about what the Amerikantsy thought. They were the closest unit, and so it was their job to respond. The Amerikantsy weren’t thrilled but had agreed to their deployment as long as they checked in with them every hour on the hour and had taken it upon themselves to provide transport out upon completion.

That’s what this briefing packet said in any case. Major Beloi wasn’t entirely thrilled about the arrangement, but that’s what they’d managed to work out. When there was suspected terrorist activity, the Amerikantsy wanted to send their own, but given that it was Russian citizens on an uninhabited island, they had agreed to let them go in. Vasily had no problems with most Amerikantsy, the ones that didn’t call him a communist on sight in particular, but it was the government and their strict anti-Russian policies that he hated with a passion.

“Tovarisch major, did you hear about this supposed mystical island in the area?” asked Lieutenant Pavel Morozov, having paused his story about the same chertovskiy island. “I hear there’s a mystical Sun Queen there, according to local stories.” Pavel was grinning ear to ear, despite the annoyed glare that Vasily had given him in return. His blue eyes had that same glint they did when Pavel had a stupid idea. Vasily didn’t even want to know what his idea was this time.

“With your govno luck with women, Lieutenant, I don’t think we should bother her if she’s there in the first place. Remember Grozny? I’m sure this ‘Sun Queen’ will have something worse than a pan,” remarked one of his marksman, Senior Lieutenant Sasha “Zubov” Voroboi, barely looking up from his VSS Vintorez. This elicited laughs from the rest of the squad. Pavel waved them off, but a smile slowly formed on his features as well. Vasily was smiling as well now as he remembered the event; Pavel running out of one of the houses and some babushka chasing him out with a cast iron pan.

“Jokes aside, tovarischi, this is a serious situation. Once we locate the wreck from the air, we’ll have to secure the survivors on our own. According to our intelligence, there is nowhere to set this plane down on the island. Assuming this is all an accident, we’ll have to secure the survivors. So, make sure those rations and medical equipment survive the drop. If we’re not so lucky, we’ll have to make sure that we secure the survivors _and_ eliminate whoever has them. Bystryy. Effektivnoye. Standart,” he said, looking over the other Special Operations Forces personnel in the troop bay of the An-26 they were flying in. “Any questions?” he asked, making sure to look at the usual suspects.

“Da,” said Pavel, perking up. “Will we be getting that vacation at Sochi that the komandir promised us?” This earned him a punch in the arm from their medic, Lieutenant Artyom “D'Artagnan” Chyornyj. “D'Artagnan, is okay. I promise we’ll all wear our suns cream, no need to get violent.” This time the joke was at Artyom’s expense. Vasily had read Alexandre Dumas’ novel a long while ago. At first, he’d wondered how the names had stuck, but he’d soon come to see how Artyom was the D'Artagnan to Pavel’s Athos. They’d been through thick and thin together during their days in the VDV.

It was at this moment that the intercom came to life once more, “Major Beloi to the flight deck. Major Beloi to the flight deck.” Vasily sighed and disengaged his harness, standing up. Slinging his weapon over his shoulder, he made his way over to the flight deck of the transport aircraft. The sound of the engines drowned out everything else, even with his active headphones on, the sound was loud. The door to the flight deck was open, and Vasily could see the grey skies ahead of their aircraft. He wasn’t a pilot, but he’d flown enough to know bad weather when he saw it, and the skies ahead looked particularly _grim_.

He could see the crew at their stations, their navigator checking his display and wondering how this storm managed to sneak up on them no doubt. There was no word about a storm in the area, nothing this huge, and somehow this storm had appeared without them knowing. “Major Beloi, I have a favor to ask of you, but I have a feeling you know what it is I’m going to ask.” Vasily didn’t know their pilot, Captain Ruslan Subotin, very well. What he did hear from their usual pilot however was that he was a good man, not one to shirk his duty.

“Captain Subotin, I think it is safe to say that perhaps you are asking if we are willing to get off a little early. On account of _that_ I think,” he said, nodding at the clouds in the distance. There was no point endangering their aircraft, once they were close enough, his squad could certainly make the jump. “Have you tried contacting HQ?” he asked, turning to the radio operator.

The radio operator nodded, “Tak tochna, ser. The radio is acting up, the storm must be causing too much interference.” Something about this was very wrong, it was a feeling that was coming from deep within his gut. Chechnya had proven that his gut feelings were very rarely wrong, but he had no information to back his claim here. He took a breath to steady his mind.

“Well then, we have no choice. Captain Subotin, drop us to jump altitude. We’ll make the jump. You turn back to Vladivostok. We’ll radio the Amerikantsy once the storm has subsided,” he said, then turning around and making his way back to the cabin, shutting the door to the flight deck behind him. He whispered a quick prayer to the Lord as he stepped into the cabin fully, then making the symbol of the cross. “Alright, switch bottles, check your gear. This is the last chance you’re going to get, volch'ya staya,” he said. Whatever was going on here, he had confidence in his Spetsnaz, they were _his_ wolf pack. Like Siberian wolves, there was no prey they couldn’t bring down. If Chechnya hadn’t taken them from him, this place wouldn’t.

Vasily changed the pre-jump bottle for the oxygen bottle meant to be used during the jump. At the thirty thousand feet, there was only enough oxygen for thirty seconds before you passed out. He double checked his cold weather gear; the temperature was close to -45 degrees Celsius, any slip up and he’d freeze before he got to the ground. Once they were on the ground, they would have to ditch the cold weather gear. It was a little too warm on that island for that, unless they were going anywhere near it’s mountains, which he did not plan on doing. “Tovarisch major,” said his second in command, Captain Viktor Zaitsyev, approaching him. “Gotov idti.”

Vasily nodded, and before he could instruct them to prepare to jump, the plane shook violently. Vasily was nearly thrown off of his feet. He could see the storm around them now through the windows. That didn’t make any sense, radar and visual observation put the storm well ahead of them! What in pizdec what this? “This storm’s going to tear us apart! This is our last window to turn around, Major Beloi, if you are going to jump, jump now!” Vasily could have sworn that he heard a barely audible, ‘Oh kurva!’  The volch’ya staya didn’t need to be told twice, they were all seasoned Spetsnaz, and each and every one of them took up their positions for the jump.

The red light that bathed the cabin was replaced with a green light, clearing them for jump. One by one, each operative ran down the ramp and leapt out into the raging skies around them. Then went the supply crates, food and medical supplies, connected to automatic release chutes. As Viktor moved to make the jump, he put a hand on his old friend’s shoulder, prompting him to turn around. “Ser?”

“I’ll see you on the ground, brat,” said Vasily, his words muffled by the oxygen mask he wore for the HALO jump. Viktor nodded, and then turning, he ran down the ramp and leapt out into the raging storm around them. Vasily took a look at the scene outside the aircraft. ‘Once more unto the breach’, he thought to himself, before he followed suit, footfalls barely audible over the howling winds and the constant rain. The clouds around them were angry and grey, the winds buffeted them on their descent. There was nothing to do yet, for now, it was all up to gravity.

Eight operatives, two crates, all fell in loose formation. Despite the winds whipping around them. A radio check followed. Voices filtered in through his headset, only slightly marred by static and interrupted by the audible intake of oxygen. No one said anything more than what they had to. The only sounds were the faint droning of the An-26’s engines over the howling winds of the sudden storm. Vasily knew that with winds these strong they’d be split off from each other the moment they opened their chutes. Once they landed, they’d link up and start their search for survivors.

Falling at terminal velocity, the island below became visible after a while. It was a beautiful, breathtaking even. Dense jungle covered most of it, snow covered peaks dominated most of his view. Even from where he was, Vasily could see the wrecked hulls of ships arrayed against the shore. To say that he was even more confused was an understatement. First, freak storm. Second, enough hulls to put most repair yards to shame. What the hell was going on here? “Think one of them is our missing ship?” asked Senior Lieutenant Alyena “Koush” Davydova. There was a reason that she’d earned her nickname. That woman had fantastic eyes, and she was an even better shot. Even so, none of them were low enough to be able to tell what sort of water craft any of the hulls had once been.

“Only one way to find out,” replied Vasily, taking a quick look at the altimeter on his wrist, the display mostly fogged up from the low temperatures at higher altitudes. Three thousand five hundred feet. “Chutes on my mark,” he said, waiting till the display read three thousand feet before he spoke again, “MARK!” Pulling his chute release tab and the cord attached to it, he felt his billowing chute pull him upward. The automated release on the crates opened as well, black low observability parachutes opening up and slowing their descent.

Just as he predicted, the wind began scattering them, the secure crates as well. Fortunately for them, they were tagged with the same locators that his men were, he could track them using the Sagittarius, the commanding officers tablet computer issued to all commanding officers. Which was admittedly still new to him, but he was getting used to it. Even being tossed around by the wind on his way down, separated from the rest of his men, Vasily still managed to find it ironic that he was having trouble using the Sagittarius. To think he was going to try to get into college for computer science.

He was very quickly snapped out of his thoughts by a gust of wind that pulled him to his left and started bringing him dangerously close to the trees. Vasily knew it was pointless to fight the strong winds with the controls of the chute, less the chute itself sustain damage. However, he still had no plans on smacking into any of those trees at his current velocity. Of all the ways Vasily thought he was going to die over the years, smacking into a tree too hard after a freak storm resulted in a botched HALO jump was not even on the list.

He mumbled another prayer to the Lord, promising to take up a more peaceful career if he could just survive this once he found a clearing of sorts. Only problem was that it was a little too close to the shore. Weighing his options, he decided that falling into the sea and enduring the brief struggle of disengaging his chute was far preferable to drowning. He thought for a moment about disengaging and discarding his mask but decided that _both_ hands on the chute controls was probably a far smarter decision.

By the time he realized that he was coming in too low, all he could do was let out an exasperated, “Ay blyat.” It was not that the realization was too slow, but the simple fact that the gust of wind that had been carrying him stopped miraculously, and now there was nothing he could do about but realize that he was in trouble. Looking at his flight path, Vasily could see several branches. Hopefully nothing too rigid. The parachute came low and he recoiled in pain as he smacked through small but not exactly fragile branches before his chute was caught. Just as he thought he was going come to a stop, he swung forward. Seeing a massive branch in front of him, and knowing that he wasn’t going to stop before he hit it, Vasily’s last thoughts before his world went black were, ‘This is going to hurt…’

Captain Viktor Zaitsev

Viktor folded up his chute and slung his patrol bag. His Pecheneg Bullpup was supported by its shoulder sling and its grip was held firmly in his right hand. With his left hand, he hit the transmit button on his headset, “This is Zaitsyev, I’m mobile. Status, priyem?” As he waited for a reply, he fetched his Sagittarius table from its hard case pouch on his webbing. The tablet took a moment to boot up and initialize, but then displayed the locations of each and every member of the squad, including Vasily. Everyone else except for Vasily’s markers were moving, and that concerned Viktor. Then again, it was a new system, and there would be some interference from the storm, he didn’t think too much of it. “Tovarisch major, ty kopiruyesh, priyem?” There was no response from his commanding officer.

“This is Abramovna, the wind got my chute tangled, I’m stuck up in the trees. I’ll cut my way down and report back in, ser, priyem” said Junior Lieutenant Natalya Abramovna. Viktor checked his tablet again, Artyom and Pavel were close enough to divert in her direction if need be. Sasha was close enough to Vasily’s locator, there was no one he trusted more to check in on their commanding officer.

“Morozov reporting in. Chyornyj and I are on the ground and ready to move, priyem” came Pavel’s response a moment later. Of course, those two had landed close enough to each other. Even a storm of this size couldn’t separate them. That was the first good thing that had happened since the storm had forced them to jump before they’d located the missing ship or any sign of the survivors. He knew that they had to be on the island somewhere.

“Voroboi here, I’m on the ground. What are your orders? Priyem,” asked Sasha, his voice filtering in through. Sasha was the furthest from them all, close enough only to Vasily. It would be a while before Sasha could link up with them, assuming he managed to find their Major alive and well. They’d yet to have any contact, hostile or otherwise.

“Petrovich reporting, mobile and awaiting orders, priyem,” reported Illya. According to his locator, if he was the ‘middle’ position, Illya was to his west. That meant that Illya would be able to search that area before he linked up with them. Luckily, Alyena had also landed closer to Ilya than him. If those two couldn’t find the source of the SOS signals in that part of the island, then no one could.

“Davydova here, ready to move, priyem,” reported in Alyena at last. For a moment he’d been concerned. After all, no one had heard from Vasily yet. He knew it was on their minds, but none of them was going to mention it unless he didn’t, and he planned on.

Of course, they’d tried raising the missing civilians when they were on approach, to no avail. “Morozov, you and Chyornyj make your way to Abramovna’s position. Pick her up and then link up at my location. Davydova, you and Petrovich search the area for any sign of our missing civilians. Voroboi, I’ve got a special task for you, I’m sending you Major Beloi’s last known position, locate him and report your findings, priyem,” he ordered. A chorus of “Est, konets svyazi” answered him.

Just as he was about to get moving, his radio crackled to life again, “ _Volch’ya staya_ 6, this is _Kuritsy_ , we have lost number two engine and are losing altitude fast. We are not going to be able to make it to Vladivostok. We are attempting a crash landing on the island. Sending you our estimated crash coordinates, konets svyazi” The tension in Subotin’s voice was apparent, the man was clearly fighting with the controls of his aircraft. Viktor let out a sigh. _Fantastika_. This was going just great. First their commanding officer was non-responsive, and now this?

Normally Subotin would have used their secondary channel, but their radio operator rightly figured out that they’d have switched to their intra-squad channel when they’d made the jump. That meant they’d _all_ heard it. Viktor checked the coordinates on his Sagittarius, a dot representing the rough area in which Subotin and his crew expected to put their aircraft down appeared. “Alright, change of plans. You all heard that. Davydova, Petrovich, you are the closest to the crash site. Once they come down, move in and report back in, priyem.”

“Assuming they survive the crash, tovarisch kapitan, priyem,” said Alyena. Viktor looked up as he heard the stuttering of turboprop engines. He’d heard that sound more than he’d like to have in his life. It was the sound of a dying aircraft. Barely visible through the low cloud base, their An-26 was visible, trailing acrid black smoke from one of its engines. Viktor said a quick prayer for the crew. He then looked around at his surroundings. What the hell was going on this island?

“We don’t leave our own behind, Senior Lieutenant Davydova. Be advised, I will be joining you at the crash site, priyem,” he said, making his way toward the estimated crash site, his Pecheneg Bullpup cradled in his hands, held just as easily as a rifle. There was enough weird govno going on, no point in being an easy target.

“Tak tochna, tovarisch kapitan, konets svyazi” came her reply, filtering in through his headset. Viktor continued moving. The environment was far lusher than what he was used to, but Viktor had trained in the tropics before. Of course, if someone had told him that he was going to be on an island like this, he would have hoped it was for a vacation. Not that he would vacation here. Something about this place was off, it gave him the creeps, and Viktor Zaitsyev was not a squeamish man. He wondered, if Chechnya didn’t have nearly this bad an effect on him, and he’d lost many friends and nearly died there several times, what was it with this place that had such an effect on him.

_Forty-five minutes later, after crash landing of An-26 callsign Kuritsy on unknown island_

The Kuritsy had crashed, they’d all heard it. There had yet to be radio contact from the crew, however. Whether they were unconscious, dead, or their radios were damaged was yet to be ascertained. Alyena and Illya were closest, so he expected them to report their findings soon.

He was perhaps forty-five minutes into his route when he heard voices ahead of him. Viktor reflexively sought cover, in this case a small boulder that he threw himself behind. Viktor stayed quiet and listened. “I’m telling you, I saw one of them come down around here,” said the voice, it had an American accent. Viktor raised an eyebrow in confusion. This island wasn’t supposed to be inhabited. As far as he knew, there were no Amerikantsy on the missing yacht. Survivors of the other shipwrecks perhaps? Viktor risked a glance around the boulder, and he saw two men in filthy torn clothes making their way toward him.

“Who the hell parachutes onto an island like this? You know, you can’t bail out of commercial jets, right? This has to be something else,” said the second, also in an American accent. Two Amerikantsy? What in pizdec was going on? Both men were carrying bows, makeshift ones from the look of it. Even at this range, he didn’t have to worry about them. Snapping up his weapon and stepping out, he trained it on the man on the right.

“Don’t move, both of you,” said Viktor in Russian accented English. He could speak English fluently, but without an accent? That was a different matter. “Keep your hands, where I can see them.” Both men were taken completely by surprise. On seeing the large light machine gun in his hands, both men instantly complied and raised their hands, if reluctantly.

“Hey man, look, we’re just trying to help. Don’t need to point a weapon at us,” said the first man, whom Viktor currently had his weapon trained on. “You uh…Russian? Russian Army? Special forces or something?” Viktor had seen the look of genuine fear on the face of a lot of men, but the look on their faces, in their eyes? They weren’t scared at all. There was something wrong with them, only he couldn’t put his finger on what, and he couldn’t shoot them because he didn’t like the look in their eyes.

“Trying to help, eh? When did you shipwreck here on this island, and why didn’t you send SOS signal when you did?” he asked, still not taking his eyes off the man, in fact, Viktor was watching the two very closely. He noticed that one of them had a radio on his belt. It didn’t prove anything, but Viktor was starting to get very suspicious. What set all the alarm bells in his head off, was the Zlatoust Volodaz Diver watch on the man’s wrist, which was suspiciously cleaner than the rest of his attire.

Almost as if the Lord himself was watching over him, the man’s radio crackled to life, “Hey, what’s taking the two of you so long. Did that parachutist give you trouble?” Viktor didn’t need another reminder, and neither did both men who began reaching for vicious looking hand axes on their belts. Squeezing the trigger with practiced ease, Viktor sent a three-round burst of 7N13 rounds through the man, splattering his comrade in vitae. A slight adjustment and Viktor turned the other man’s torso into pulp as well. There was silence for a moment, propellant gasses slowly leaving the barrel. The radio crackled to life once more. “Come on, answer me, damnit!” swore the voice on the other end, sounding very annoyed.

Viktor walked over to the two bodies, and immediately began searching them. The first thing that he pilfered was the radio, switching it off before dropping it into one of the empty pouches on his webbing. Monitoring their communications, whoever ‘they’ were, could be helpful. He took the watch from the dead man, hoping that he’d find who it once belonged to. Lowering his balaclava, he spat on the corpses before moving on. “Zaitsyev here, we’re not alone on this island. Treat anyone that is not one of us, or the missing civilians, as potential hostiles. Subdue them if you can, if you can’t? Neutralize them. Priyem,” he said after keying his mic.

“Tovarisch kapitan, I’ve spotted a group of armed men making their way toward the crash site. Petrovich and I haven’t ascertained the status of the crew yet, priyem,” reported Alyena. Two of them versus this scum? Viktor had complete confidence in the two of them. He almost felt bad for these fools.

“Tak tochna, I’m en route, konets svyazi,” replied Viktor, turning around to glance at the two corpses, blood pooling up under them. Shaking his head at the sheer insanity of the situation, Viktor began jogging toward the crash site. He wasn’t far, nor was he worried that they were going to need his help, he _was_ worried that they’d leave none for him.

Senior Lieutenant Alyena Davydova

Their An-26 was a wreck, but at least it wasn’t a flaming wreck. Thankfully, the crew had clearly jettisoned their fuel reserves before they’d crashed, otherwise she was sure that there’d be a massive flaming wreck. The aircraft was in bad shape, but all things considered, it was mostly intact. It’d lost it’s right wing at the root, the left wing being bisected right at the engine. The tail planes were both sheared off at some point in the crash, and the tail itself was torn to shreds but still present in some form or another.

At least the crew was armed, and so there would be no babysitting required. For that, she was thankful as well. Dropping to a crouch as she saw the group of armed men get closer she shouldered her VSS Vintorez. Under one hundred meters. Perfect. The Rys-LD automated ranging unit was a wonderous piece of technology, it automatically adjusted for elevation, range and the ballistic characteristics of the PAB-9 armor-piercing round. Steadying her breathing, she took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The rifle bucked ever so familiarly in her arms, sending a round downrange with barely a hint of a cough.

One of the men instantly dropped, the man closest to him covered in brain matter and blood. The remaining four men began spinning around wildly in fear. Alyena adjusted her aim, and mirthlessly put a round through the next man’s torso, punching through the man’s makeshift body armor effortlessly. One of his comrades began fruitlessly strafing the woods around him, forcing Alyena to drop down, lest she be hit by a stray round or a ricochet. She felt something rebound off of her shoulder protection and decided that ducking till he decided to stop firing was best. “Illya, chevo blyat? Today or tomorrow? Priyem,” she hissed into her mic, wondering if Illya had decided to take a nap.

“Have some patience, Alyena. Konets svyazi,” replied Illya, and Alyena was about to respond with what she thought of him when she heard the telltale sound of suppressed automatic weapons fire, audible at this distance thanks to her headset. She dared to poke her head up and saw the remaining two idiots trying to throw themselves behind cover. Taking aim once more, Alyena pulled the trigger, sending a single round through the fallen log the man had thrown himself behind and through his side. A deadly burst from Illya killed the other man as he turned to run.

Alyena turned her mic on and made it clear to Illya that she was going to be pushing up, asking him to cover her, “Ya pashol, prikroy menya, priyem!” Taking a moment to quickly survey the immediate area, smelling the wafting smell of propellant gasses mixed the scent of damp earth and not seeing any movement, Alyena pushed up. Moving quickly, she carefully flicked the selector switch into the middle position, switching from semi-automatic to fully automatic. There were eighteen rounds left in the magazine. Plenty of ammunition.

Half crouched, each step carefully placed, she moved quietly up to the injured man. As she reached the log he’d been taking cover, she could see the shower of splintered would the round had left in its wake. More importantly, she saw a small, glistening trail of blood leading away from the log. “Don’t move…” she hissed in accented English. “Toss your weapon away, _now_!”

First the man let out a maniacal laugh. “Oh, you’re a _woman_!” he exclaimed, she swore she could see a grin on his face. Alyena had seen a lot during the years she’d served her country, but something about this man’s smile put her off more than it should have. “Good shot too, pity we don’t accept women. You’ll have to go through the trials…” This confused Alyena even more. She kept her weapon trained on the man and frowned. What the hell did he mean, ‘we’. What in pizdec were these trials he was talking about?

Alyena looked at the prone form of the man. They didn’t need him to last long, just long enough to answer some of their questions. Immediately, she turned and put a round into the man’s hand. Naturally, he screamed. “Listen to me very carefully, asshole, I’m going to keep hurting you unless you toss your weapon and start answering questions. Understand?”

The man turned over, painfully, and looked her over. “You’re Russian, right? Vlad’ll like you. I mean, I can’t tell under all that gear, but hot damn if you’re as beautiful as you sound.” Alyena’s weapon coughed again, this time it punched through the man’s other palm, leaving a ragged edged hole that leaked blood. However, the man’s statement did leave some very important questions. Who was this ‘Vlad’? Name like that, she was willing to bet that he was Russian or Ukrainian, Eastern European in the least. “You have no idea who you’re messing with!” he growled. “Last one of you fucking Russian whores was defiant too, before we worked her over.”

“Who is this Vlad? What do you know about these other Russians? Answer me, cyka! Pray to whatever you fucking believe in that I like your answer,” she hissed once more. The man didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, and so she brought her foot down on his injured hand, _hard_. Alyena was sure that she heard bone cracking. Taking her foot off barely a moment later and stepping back, she watched him languish in pain for a moment. “There is no version of this where you are alive, only thing that changes is how quickly you die,” she added.

“Vlad…is the man in charge of one of our groups,” the man said through tightly clenched teeth. “And…you’re a fool if you think I’ll tell you anything more, you bitch.” Alyena was starting to wonder what the hell happened to this man to make him such a tough son of a bitch, because most men cracked by now, especially those who hadn’t received specialized training to resist interrogation.

“Wrong answer,” said Alyena, aiming for his shoulder and being careful to aim for the actual joint, Alyena put another round into him. She was down to fifteen rounds now, and the man was running out of explicitly non-lethal areas to wound. “The other Russians, where are they? What have you done with them?”

The man looked at her with hatred in his eyes, he tried to sit up, but no doubt his broken shoulder made that a distinct impossibility. “You’re too late…the ones who refused to join us are dead…and the women…well, only one of them is going to go through the final test,” said the man. The man didn’t display any of the telltale signs of lying, but given how injured he was, he was hard to read. That was the only disadvantage to what she did. Was he just trying to get inside her head?

“It’s the other shoulder unless you tell me what this ‘final test’ is, and where the rest of the survivors are,” she said, aiming at the man’s other shoulder, making sure he knew that she was definitely going to shoot him if she didn’t like his answer. Truth was, this place was getting weirder and weirder the more she learned about it, and the sooner they left this place, the better she was going to feel. What the fuck kind of cult was this? The conscripted the men and sacrificed the women?

“To see if she’s a worthy successor to the Sun Queen, Father Mathias said she has great promise,” said the man, with a conviction that both confused and worried Alyena. The man truly believed in what he was saying. The implications of which were starting to chill her to the bones.

“Where can I find this Father Mathias?” she asked, finger tightening around the trigger. She wasn’t sure if she _wanted_ to hear more of the man’s insane ramblings, worried that there would be some actual truth to it.

“Don’t worry sweet heart, everyone saw your plane go down, we’ll be paying you a visit soon enough. If you feel like walking in, well, just go inland. You’ll find him,” said the man, then starting to maniacally laugh between cries of anguish that came from even moving his shoulder slightly. Alyena knew that she wasn’t going to get any more out of the man, and so she put another round into his head. The heavier round forced brain matter and blood out of the exit wound. ‘Good riddance,’ she thought to herself, then turning around and moving toward the aircraft.

From out of the corner of her vision, she could see Captain Zaitsyev approaching, and so she slowed to match his pace. “Tovarisch kapitan, we have a serious problem.” As Alyena explained to her Captain about what she’d heard, the status of the survivors, what this cult on the island did to both the recent crash survivors and countless others, about this Father Mathias and the mysterious Sun Queen. The same Sun Queen who Pavel had mentioned in his story.

Viktor’s eyes went wide as he listened to what she said. “So, you’re telling me, that these _lokhi_ have killed most of the civvies we’re looking for. Then they raped most of the women, forcefully recruited the remaining men and that they’re sacrificing the one surviving woman to the ‘Sun Queen’ or some other dermo, the same one in Pavel’s story?” asked Viktor, looking at her for confirmation, and then when she nodded, let out an exasperated, “Eto pizdec.”

“Crew are alive for the most part, ser, cuts and bruises is all,” said Illya, standing a few feet away from him. “Captain Subotin wants to speak to you when you’re able.” Viktor nodded, and then after exchanging a glance with her, he turned in the direction of the crashed aircraft. Sure enough, they both were able to board the aircraft via the starboard access door. True enough, Subotin and his crew were alive. Captain Subotin was standing in front of the arms locker, handing out AK-74Ms to the rest of the crew, finally taking one himself and rocking a magazine into the receiver.

“Tovarisch kapitan,” he said, turning around as he noted their arrival. “My crew and I are grateful for your intervention. What kind of hell hole have we landed up in?” Subotin flicked the safety lever down all the way, setting the rifle to semi-automatic, and then chambered a round.

“You don’t know the half of it, kapitan Subotin,” said Viktor, his feelings on the whole situation coming through quite clearly in his voice. “We need to tell the Amerikantsy about the situation here and warn them about the storm. Hopefully they aren’t stupid enough to try and send someone till it subsides. Is the communications gear intact, the battery?”

“Da, the battery is still fine, GLONASS module and radio survived the crash as well. This is a _Russian_ aircraft, tovarisch, we build to last,” said Subotin, gesturing at the aircraft’s hull with his right hand, his left hand holding his rifle by the fore end.

“And you also happened to crash well,” said Alyena, a smile spreading across her face underneath her balaclava. Subotin looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “Just saying, your piloting skill and some luck certainly helped.” Subotin shrugged, and then nodded.

“At least that’s some good news,” said Viktor nodding in approval of the situation. “See if you can raise the Amerikantsy. We’ll give the others two hours to reach this position before we move out from here. Till then, Alyena, I need you to scout the area out and tell me if you can find anything out about this…cult.”

Alyena snapped off a smart salute, “Tak tochna, tovarisch kapitan.” With that, she turned around and exited the crashed aircraft, making for the same direction the group they’d ran into earlier seemed to have come from. With any luck, they’d find a base of operations, an outpost, something…anything that gave them more of clue about what was going on here.

Junior Lieutenant Natalya Abramovna

Getting down from the precarious position that she currently found herself in wasn’t going to be easy. This damn chute was caught in the trees, but the release clasp was within reach. As soon as she got off the radio with her captain, she immediately reached for the release clasp. That was until she heard rustling in the bushes in front of her. Unfortunately, her rifle was not exactly easy to reach right now, and so her hand immediately reached for the grip of her pistol.

It was then that she saw two men slowly approaching her position. Natalya’s hand closed around the grip of her pistol. Something about these men didn’t look quite right. One of them had a makeshift looking longbow in his hands, the other one had a pistol holstered at his hip. “Hey, you need a hand there?” asked the man in front, while his companion with the bow didn’t say anything. They were both dressed in filthy clothes, hooded jackets of some kind.

“Who are you,” asked Natalya, eyeing the two men suspiciously. Something about them, rubbed her wrong. Firstly, for survivors, they were oddly coordinated. They’d only just landed on the island, after they’d executed a HALO jump, which meant that they had to have been watching them very closely somehow. In addition, the storm was still lingering, most people would seek shelter at a time like this. Even so, it wasn’t enough to just shoot them, but it was enough for her to not want to accept their help.

It was just about then that Captain Zaitsyev’s voice crackled in her ears, “Zaitsyev here, we’re not alone on this island. Treat anyone that is not one of us, or the missing civilians, as potential hostiles. Subdue them if you can, if you can’t? Neutralize them. Priyem.” Natalya didn’t need to be told twice, she immediately pushed down on her pistol, chambering a round and flicking the safety off as it went through the EFA-2K self-load holster.

Snapping her weapon up, she trained it on the man with the holstered pistol, not worried about the man with the longbow. “Throw your weapons down, both of you, _now_!” She definitely caught both men off guard. Going from a seemingly gullible and confused woman to suddenly pointing a large sidearm at them. It must’ve been quite the shock.

“Whoa, take it easy there. I’ll answer your question, no need to be violent. We’re just survivors here, not a soldier like you,” said the man. It was convincing, and if she hadn’t heard from her captain, she’d have bought the man’s lie, hook line and sinker. Who knows what would have happened to her then?

“I said, throw your weapons down, I won’t ask again,” she repeated, keeping her weapon trained on the first man. She was getting the impression that neither man was going to comply with her. It was an uncomfortable half second as they stood, unmoving, and she continued to hang from the parachute with her pistol pointed trained on them.

Then they made the first move. The bow wielding man knocked back an arrow, moving surprisingly fast, Natalya adjusted her aim and immediately pulled the trigger. Her suppressed SR1MP spat a single UCh armor piercing round at the man, tearing through his upper left torso. Unfortunately, she wasn’t fast enough, and the impact of her round caused him to release the bowstring.

Pain shot through her left shoulder, she’d been shot enough to know that it wasn’t broken. Letting go of her gun with the left, continuing to hold it in a one handed right hand grim, she turned it on the other man just as he managed to pull his pistol free, and put a single round right into his upper middle torso, just below his neck. The man’s eyes opened wide, as he gurgled, coughing up blood. He stood where he was for a moment, before he dropped his pistol, fell to his knees and fell over, dead.

With the immediate threat dealt with, Natalya looked over at the arrow stuck in her shoulder. For one, it was a hell of a lucky shot, it got her in the small gap between her vest and shoulder protector. Blood leaked out from the wound. _Khorosho blyat_. She began to holster her weapon when she heard the voice of Lieutenant Pavel Morozov, “Natasha, I see you are just hanging out here, waiting for us.” Even though he had a balaclava on, she was willing to bet he had his usual smug, shit eating grin on his face. As he and Artyom drew closer, Pavel took note of the bodies and the smell of propellant in the air and added, “And you managed to find some friends too! Opa! Look at you, Artyom and I have yet to socialize with the natives.”

“Let’s see about that arrow in your arm,” said Artyom, pulling out his medical bag. “Anything broken?” he asked, just to be sure. Truth be told, as annoying as he was, she didn’t mind Pavel. He was dependable in a fight and lightened the mood most of the time, even if he sometimes did it at her expense. Artyom was a sweet guy, and he’d had been a friend of hers as long as she’d been in the unit.

“Pasha, Tyoma, good to see you too,” she said, nodding an acknowledging nod at them. She holstered her gun and then took another look at the drop. Seven feet. Not bad, not bad at all. After undoing her leg straps with her right hand, she disengaged the clasp, letting out a slight yelp as she fell. She landed on both feet, dropping down to absorb the force of the fall. She walked over to the trunk of the tree she’d been hanging from only moments ago and leaned back against it.

Artyom immediately came over and looked at the wound, sucking teeth as he looked at the arrow. “Good thing you’ve had your tetanus shots, eh?” he asked, completely deadpan. Natalya pulled down her balaclava and gave him a look. Artyom raised his eyebrows and returned his attention to her wound, “Right…Well, you’re lucky, the head didn’t go in completely, so we can just pull it out.” Natalya nodded, and then immediately let out a cry of pain and protest as Artyom pulled the arrow out. 

“Chevo blyat?” she spat back at Artyom with venom in her eyes. “Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

Artyom shrugged, “It’s like with bandages, better to rip it off.” He looked at the bloody arrowhead and then tossed it aside. “Take off your shirt, please,” said Artyom, fishing around in his medical bag for what she presumed was something to patch the wound back up. Natalya nodded, taking off her patrol pack, and then her plate carrier. The shoulder and thigh protection came off next, and finally her carrier rig. She then unbuttoned her shirt with practiced ease and placed it atop the rest of her gear.

She could see the nasty gash left in her shoulder by the arrow, still oozing blood onto her telnyashka. “Should I leave the two of you alone?” asked Pavel, leading to both Natalya and Artyom fixing him with a scathing glare. Pavel nodded, “Right, I’ll go pull security.” Pavel muttered to himself as he brought his AS Val up and patrolling the area.

“Oh Pasha, what will we do with you?” sighed Natalya as she watched Pavel leave. Artyom smiled as he cleaned her wound up, and then got ready to begin stitching it up. “Wouldn’t really be the volch’ya staya without him, either.”

The smile on Artyom’s face grew broader, “ _Someone_ has to constantly put their foot in their mouth.” Natalya clenched her teeth as Artyom began stitching. Pavel could be hard to deal with sometimes, but he’d been an integral part of the team ever since Natalya had joined, and that was the case long before that as well.

Natalya suppressed a chuckle. “Please don’t make me laugh, Tyoma,” she said through clenched teeth, wincing ever so slightly as Artyom worked. Artyom just gave her a supportive smile as he continued stitching. Letting out a sigh, Natalya wondered how Alyena and Sasha were doing. Part of her was also worrying about Major Beloi, they hadn’t heard from him since they’d landed. Hopefully he was okay.

Senior Lieutenant Sasha Voroboi

Sasha checked his Strelets tactical computer to see if he was any closer to his squad leader. The terrain in this area wasn’t exactly easy to traverse. Sasha had found himself scrambling up more than a few ledges. The top of the cliff face gave him a perfect vantage point to look down on the area where his commanding officer was supposed to be in, according to his GLONASS signal in any case. As he brought his VSS Vintorez up, turning the magnification factor on his Rys-LD Automated Ranging Sight all the way, more than enough to let him see all the way to the beach below him, his radio crackled to life, “Be advised, we’ve picked up an SOS signal from a ship called the _Endurance_. Chances are it’s the same storm causing them problems. Priyem.”

It was Captain Zaitsyev. The same storm knocks both their aircraft _and_ another ship out? That was a bit of a strange coincidence if he’d ever heard of one. This whole mission had been fraught with weird coincidences. What was the chances that a Russian yacht gets shipwrecked on an island because of a storm, and then a storm knocks out their aircraft when they came to rescue them, and now a storm was knocking out another ship that had come close to the island? There was no way to explain it, really, and he was not a fan of speculation or superstition, but not having an answer about what happened to them felt so much worse.

Pavel’s story came to mind, but Sasha immediately dismissed it from his mind. “Ser, Senior Lieutenant Voroboi here, I’m in an overwatch position overlooking a beach with a large number of wrecks. Shall I hold my position and attempt find any survivors of this wreck before the natives get to them? Priyem,” he said after keying his mic. They’d all received information about the locals being part of a bizarre cult from Alyena, who’d interrogated one of them. Part of Sasha felt bad for whichever madman she’d interrogated, Alyena was very scary when she wanted to be. Though he felt bad for her, she was constantly trying to ‘make up’ for her ‘mistake’ of getting captured during her term of service with the MVD in Chechnya.

If it weren’t for Captain Pyotr Valentin’s insistence on going in to get her, she would have certainly been dead. He’d seen firsthand what they’d done to her. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. He was happy that she’d ended up joining them after that, Captain Valentin’s personal recommendation certainly helped. For that matter, he missed Captain Valentin. Major Beloi is a good leader, and he would give his life for him if he was ordered to, or to protect him, but Captain Valentin was the father figure they all needed at the time, given the job they had.

“Da, that’s an acceptable idea. Hold your position and relay your findings. Oh, and Sasha, when you find Vasya, please tell him exactly what I think of his disappearance. Priyem,” ordered Captain Zaitsyev. Sasha found it difficult not to laugh at his last instruction. The veteran sniper knew exactly what his captain meant, and he knew exactly how his major was going to react to that.

“Tak tochna, tovarisch kapitan. Konets svyazi,” he replied, and then returned to watching the beach below him. He’d made sure to place one of the three MON-50 anti-personnel mines on the approach to his position, actuated by the MVE-72 electric break wire. He pitied the idiot local that tried to ambush him.  Dropping down onto his stomach, Sasha braced his rifle and waited.

Major Vasily Beloi, thirty minutes later

It was far from the first time that Vasily had woken up to gunshots. It _was_ the first time that he’d woken up suspended from a tree by his own chertov parachute. Over a hundred jumps, including HALO jumps like the one they’d just done, and he ends up in a tree. Of course, none of them were performed during freak storm conditions like this.

His eyes fluttered open, and even with mostly muddled senses, he could tell that the shots had come from his left. Looking, he saw a cliff face, which based on the incline he surmised was likely not very sheer. Probably overlooking a rock beach, or a small sand beach, given that he could smell the ocean. His oxygen bottle and mask had come loose at some point during his descent, he remembered smacking into a tree branch too many on his way down.

He actually drew his pistol when he heard conversation, “That guy was crazy. We had to shoot him, right? He’d definitely have shot us first otherwise, right?” The voice was American accented, male. That was odd, he didn’t know that the island was inhabited, let alone that there were Amerikantsy here. Sure, this area was known for missing ships and aircraft, but survivors? They weren’t close enough yet, and so he keyed his mic with his left hand and whispered, “Volch’ya staya, check in, priyem.”

“Vasya, eto Viktor, where the hell have you been?” asked Viktor over the radio. “There’s a lot you don’t know, so I’ll try and fill you in. Are you in a position to talk? Priyem.” Vasily listened carefully to the sounds of conversation, looking around as best as he could. For now, he couldn’t see whoever was conversing, but he was willing to bet his last paycheck that they were not alone. He very much doubted that they were talking to themselves. Then again, with this island, who knew?

“Da, da, but hurry, priyem,” he hissed into the radio. Viktor filled him in the way only Viktor could, straight and to the point. From the cult, to their current status, the crashed An-26, the SOS signal from a ship called the _Endurance_ , the correlation between Pavel’s recalling of a folk story pertaining to the mystical island of Yamatai and the local cult’s mention of a ‘Sun Queen’ and finally the status of the remaining civilians, Viktor mentioned everything. It took a moment for him to process before he let out an exasperated sounding, “Eto pizdec.”

Viktor laughed, “Well then good luck, ser, Sasha says that you are the closest to where he saw some of the survivors of the _Endurance_ wash up ashore. If you can get them to the wreck, Pasha, Tyoma and Natasha have picked up the rations crate, we can get them some warm food in the least. Storm’s still going strong, so we haven’t managed to get in contact with the Amerikantsy. Udachi, tovarisch major. Konets svyazi.”

As luck would have it, it was about then that he caught sight of four people walking up the clearest part of the jungle toward where he was. Looking down, he saw that it was about a nine-foot drop. Not ideal, but he’d survive without breaking any bones. That was the last thing he needed right now. However, as he tried to release the clasp, he found that it was refusing to budge, and the moment he looked up, he finally got a good look at the people who had been slowly approaching his position.

One of them was a woman, she had a Beretta 92 in her hands. The others were men. One was a large man, with tribal tattoos on his muscled arms and a pump action shotgun cradled in his arms. He had what looked to Vasily like a large bush knife in a sheath on his back. The older man with them, he had a pump action shotgun with him as well. Another, looked like he was here on a day trip rather than a shipwreck survivor, or like a college professor come to give a lecture. He had a satchel bag still with him and was unarmed. The fifth person was a bespectacled man with a shoulder holster and a Beretta 92 as well. A decently well-armed group. Though he hardly considered the bespectacled man a threat, based simply on how he held his weapon, but even he rated above the college professor looking fellow.

They didn’t seem like they were survivors of previous crashes and based on the partial conversation that he’d heard earlier, he was very sure they weren’t Russian, or the Russians that they were here looking for. On seeing him, the woman immediately raised her weapon and trained it on him, “You there, keep your hands right where I can see them!”

Vasily sighed. He picked up her American accent immediately. _Khorosho blyat._ Being held at gunpoint by an American, exactly what he’d been looking forward to. “Really? There are four of you, it would be easier than, how do you Americans say, shooting fish in a barrel?” He kept his SR1MP in his hand, but didn’t train it in their direction, most of them were probably still recovering from the adrenaline surge they’d experienced, and adrenaline pumping made most people who lacked formal combat training _very_ jumpy. He had no intention of getting shot if he could help it.

“Fish in a barrel, hah. This guy’s funny,” said the bespectacled man with the stylized escape key on his t-shirt. Vasily counted that as a sure sign of progress, progress toward not getting shot. This comment however, earned him a scathing glare from the woman. The other two men seemed to be following her lead, or just didn’t care to comment on the situation.

“Just who the hell are you? Some sort of mercenary? Soldier?” she asked, the venom and distrust in her voice apparent to the veteran Spetsnaz soldier. Vasily of course, was completely and utterly unfazed by the woman. He worked with far scarier, and he’d dated far scarier.

Vasily did a flourish with his left hand, “Major Vasily Beloi, Russian Special Operations Forces, at your service.” He could see the confused looks exchanged between the group standing in front of him. Vasily resisted the urge to sigh. “Relax, I’m not looking for the treasure or whatever else brought you to this God forsaken place. I’m here for Russian citizens that were shipwrecked here. Recently.”

“And why should we trust you? Why should we believe you are who you say you are?” asked the woman, clearly resisting the urge to point the weapon right at him. He could tell by how she held her pistol. Vasily didn’t understand what about him made her so tense. He didn’t quite expect them to welcome him with open arms, but this was…different.

“Because clearly, I somehow stole a Russian uniform, Russian gear, Russian weapons and then stuck myself up in this fucking tree somehow, yes?” he asked rhetorically, making his confusion about how she could presume him to be anyone but who he said he was quite clear.

“Lad’s speaking some sense, ye don’t just land up in a tree,” said the older man among them. Vasily was glad to see that the shotgun in his hands was held more casually than the pistol in the woman’s. The woman didn’t like it, but from the expression on her face, she couldn’t really argue at this juncture.

“Mr. Grim does have a point, Reyes, and so does this gentleman here,” said the college professor looking fellow to the woman, whose name he now knew was ‘Reyes’.

“Why don’t you give the man our biographies too, Whitman,” spat Reyes. “Tell you what, soldier boy, you can cut yourself down, and then we’ll talk. I promise we won’t shoot you. No other promises.”

Vasily rolled his eyes, “What a fantastic offer, however can I refuse your generosity?” The look in Reyes’ eyes told him quite clearly that she didn’t find him amusing in the least. “Great, give me a minute…” he said, holstering his pistol and drawing his Katran knife and getting to work on cutting through the straps keeping him attached to the parachute bag. A few moments effort and he was on the ground. Sheathing his knife, he dusted himself off, taking his pack off from the front of him and slinging it.

Normally, they didn’t wear patches. For this mission, however, because they were dealing with civilians, they were wearing patches so as to not cause a panic. Vasily then pointed to the Russian flag and then his unit patch before saying, “There, proof? I mean, don’t expect me to carry ID, your special forces employ the same practice. In fact, your Delta Force also doesn’t employ patches on a regular basis.”

Reyes looked somewhat placated for the moment. She snorted, responding with a thin-lipped smile. “You on your own, Major Beloi?” she asked, watching him carefully for a response.

“I’m so glad you asked that question, but I am not. My squad is also on this island, currently. Our aircraft was downed by some freak storm, there was no storms according to our satellite scans. Even though they are erratic, our meteorological data implied that they wouldn’t be a problem,” he explained. “We intercepted your distress call, and my marksman noticed the number of wrecks and assumed that this is where you would wash up. So…here I am, offering my help.”

“Well, if you’ve got some food you’re willing to share, and another gun certainly would be appreciated,” she said, sizing him up. The look on her face, as far as Vasily could tell, went from ‘I want to shoot this man’ to ‘maybe he could be useful’. He’d take that.

“I’d hope I’ve got more than just one more gun, unless the crash took more from me than my consciousness and oxygen mask,” he said, a grin having formed on his face. “Davai, please, lead the way.” Reyes grunted, and then began walking, he presumed to a camp they might have set up. Vasily waited for the others to get moving and then walked along with them.

“Viktor, this is Vasya. I’ve located some of the survivors, and I’ll be helping them secure their location. Tell Sasha to keep looking. Priyem,” he said, keying his mic. Viktor gave him an affirmative response, but this attracted the attention of the others. “Just telling my second in command that I’ve linked up with you, and to order my marksman to try and link up with any other survivors from your ship.”

“Your radios are working in the storm?” asked Reyes, frowning at him in what he hoped was confusion. He didn’t want to assume with that woman.

“Our radios are a lot more resistant to interference, it’s still there, but we can still communicate,” said Vasily, shrugging. He then pulled out his Sagittarius tablet and brought up the location of Sasha. He was confident that even if these people weren’t who he was almost sure they were, he wouldn’t give them the chance to go after Sasha. “Here, you can see from my marksman’s positioning locator that he’s close, and diligently searching for any of your crew that might have survived.”

It had its intended effect, Reyes and the old man whose name he assumed was Grim seemed placated, almost at ease even. However, clearly having noticed the signal indicators, the bespectacled young man took a closer look and then said, “Is your tablet using GLONASS to track your men? I mean, that’s pretty cool.”

“Now you’ve got Alex interested,” said the big man with tribal tattoos. “Good luck shaking him. He won’t stop until you’ve satisfied his curiosity.” Vasily looked from the big man, to this ‘Alex’ and then nodded in a knowing fashion. Alex’s curiosity reminded him of Natalya in a way, she was always keen to learn about the latest technological whatsit. True enough, Alex did start questioning him about the device’s functions. This was going to be a _long_ walk back to their camp.

 


	2. Not Exactly a Rescue

Victims of Circumstance: Chapter 2 – Not Exactly a Rescue

Major Vasily Beloi

They say that once you started spending time with people, you began to get a better feeling for who they were. Vasily found that to be somewhat disingenuous. However, once they'd reached the camp, he had two choices. One, start boiling alive in his cold weather gear, or assume that they weren't going to shoot him in the back the moment that he removed his plate carrier. The first to come off was his carrier rig, then the patrol pack. The others it seemed, didn't seem to pay him any mind, and they went about their own business. The cold weather gear came off, and instantly Vasily felt less like he was going to be rendered down into a puddle.

Folded and stored in his pack, and after putting on his equipment once more, Vasily unslung his rifle and inspected the weapon to make sure that it wasn't damaged. Aside from the camouflage paint coat his AS Val had been given prior to their departure on this mission, the weapon was in perfect working order. He let out a barely audible sigh of relief. Looking around the camp, he could see the scavenged supplies all around, and that was when he noticed the makeshift grave in the corner. Part of him wondered how many more would be gone by the time they got off this island. 'Any more you can help prevent is too many, Vasya,' he thought to himself.

These people may not be who he was here to get out, but that didn't mean that he couldn't help them get out alive. Most of the people he and his squad were here to help were dead anyway, if that madman was to be trusted. In any case, he knew that Viktor and the others could handle it, right now he was perhaps a little to far away to help with their original objective, and these people could certainly do with his help. "So, uh, that wouldn't happen to be an AS Val, would that?" asked Alex, Vasily turned to regard him, seeing the young man regarding his rifle.

"Correct, Alex, this is an AS Val," said Vasily, nodding once. He paused for a moment and then added, "You wouldn't happen to be CIA, or something would you? Or shit, you could be GRU or SVR." He let out a short chuckle. He was joking of course. Nobody was that good at pretending to be completely and utterly unsuited for a situation, were they?

"No," he said, laughing awkwardly. "I've just played a lot of battlefield." Ah, that game. If every gun had bullet drop like they did in that game, then the various conflicts the world had seen would have resulted in far fewer deaths. He didn't quite enjoy the game, he'd only played it on break with his cousin. That was to say that they took turns.

"Good thing the real thing doesn't have the same ballistic characteristics," said Vasily, a slight smile flickering across his face, before he turned to look at what the others were doing. An awkward exchanged smile later, and silence began to set in once more. The survivors looked directionless, waiting to react, rather than with any particular plan of action in mind. "So, what's the plan here, eh, sit around and wait for something to happen?"

"Once we hear from the others, we can start moving, but till then Major Beloi, there's nothing we can do," said Reyes. "We can't exactly go wandering around this island hoping we'll run into one of the others." He could see where she was coming from, but point was that the more splintered and spread out they were, the higher the chances that they were going to get picked off by the locals. Consolidating gave them numbers, and numbers gave them a better chance at fending potential attacks off.

"We have access to decent resolution satellite navigation, we do not have to go wandering around the island. My marksman can't do it all on his own, you should consider searching the immediate area for any sign of more of your crew," countered Vasily, but the look on Reyes' face told him all he needed to know about what she thought of it.

"If you want to go, Major Beloi, go ahead. Before you do, leave that food you promised behind," she said, the faintest hint of a smile forming on her face. Vasily almost had a heart attack. He preferred when she didn't smile. This was a lot worse.

"You have a good point, Ms. Reyes," said Vasily, hoping that Reyes was her last name and not her first. It didn't sound like any first name he'd heard, but names were not exactly something he was knowledgeable about. It sounded Spanish to him, but who knows, people had all sorts of strange names these days. "I'll stay behind and see if I can't treat all of you to some Russian cooking," he joked. These were rations, and unlike Viktor, he didn't have a remarkable ability to make them taste fantastic. They didn't taste  _bad_ by any means, but nothing like actual fresh food.

Reyes disregarded him and went back to what she was doing; dividing what looked like their scavenged ammunition between them. It looked like they were in waterproof containers, which was commendable foresight on the part of whoever had stored them. He decided to leave her to it, chances are that they were going to need all the ammunition that they could get based on what he'd heard from Viktor. Crouching down close to the fire after slinging his rifle, Vasily opened his patrol pack and pulled out one of his ration packs.

One of these ration packs was good enough for a whole day, and was high protein, high calorie food. It would keep them going for a while. Opening it, he found the menu card. Buckwheat with beef, beef Goulash, beef with carrots and peas and of course, Sowbelly. The first thing he took out was the canned cheese and crackers, holding it out to the person standing closest to him, the big man whose name he'd come to know as Jonah. "Here, Jonah, please pass this around. Make sure you get some for yourself, yes?" he asked as the big man took the tin and crackers, nodding.

"I have to admit, I haven't actually tried any Russian food before," he said, looking at the tin and trying to gain some clue about what was in it, as though there was tiny English lettering somewhere below the Cyrillic.

As Vasily took out the drinks, setting them aside for the moment, he turned and said, "That is cheese spread. Nothing to write mama about, but its not bad. You are all hungry and it will keep you going till I can reheat everything else." He turned around just in time to see the man he'd been told was 'Dr. Whitman', stuffing a cheese laden cracker into his mouth. He was tempted to tell the man to leave some for everyone else but decided against it.

"Oh my god, these are delicious!" Whitman exclaimed, crumbs spilling from his mouth. Thankfully, Vasily didn't have to pretend not to be annoyed, his balaclava hid his face. Somehow, Vasily liked Whitman even less than Reyes, who just didn't like him for whatever reason. Whitman reluctantly passed it to the old man, Grim, who put the smallest amount of cheese he'd seen anyone apply to a cracker. Vasily didn't judge. Maybe he had some sort of issue, or perhaps he just wasn't one to experiment with food.

Jonah came back, and he knelt beside him, "Are you sure you don't want some help with that? We could get it heated up faster if it was the both of us." Vasily looked at him for a moment, just to see if the man was just trying to be nice or if there might have been another reason as to why he felt like 'helping'. "My unit always said I had a gift with cooking," he said, prompting Vasily to nod in understanding.

"You served?" asked Vasily, not wanting to venture a guess as to which military the man served in, let alone his rank. He did avoid judging the man's combat abilities, seeing as he'd yet to see him in combat.

"New Zealand Army Corporal Jonah Maiava, at your service," said Jonah, a proud smile forming on his face. So, it was the New Zealand Army, it was certainly one of his guesses if he was being honest. Even so, that made him feel better about the group's chances, if they were going to get into combat, at least they'd have one person who knew how to handle themselves. He didn't know the extent of the man's combat experience, but he'd take basic training over nothing.

Reyes had to have some sort of formal training as well. He couldn't quite put his finger on the origin of said training. With her and Jonah however, that meant that they had two people who knew what they were doing as far as combat was concerned. The older man, Grim, he was holding his shotgun correctly, which was a promising sign thus far. He was however, an older man, and Vasily was concerned if he'd be able to keep up. If he came on a research trip, he was probably not in terrible physical shape.

"These are not NATO style ration packs," said Vasily. "You are going to have to heat it up it in the container, yes? You'll know if it's burning, because well…you are not an idiot."

"Jonah is…was, the cook on the  _Endurance_ , he makes a damn fine fish stew," said Grim, looking up and speaking to him directly for the first time. He was unsure if the older man was just getting used to his presence, recovering from their ordeal, or if it was a sign of trust.

For Vasily, that was more than good enough. "Here, then take all of them. Can I just get everyone's drink orders? We have two tea bags, one coffee and three fruit drinks." He glanced around to see who wanted what everyone wanted. It was at that point, that he was passed the left over of the cheese spread and crackers, and on seeing that there was only one cracker and a smidgen of cheese left, he exclaimed, "Chevo blyat!? You left me only one cracker?"

Once he'd made everyone their chosen drinks, and Jonah had finished warming up the food, they sat around their fire under the remains of one of the previous wrecks, sheltered from the storm. There had been some concern that he was  _actually_  annoyed about being left only a single cracker, but he assured them that he was only joking. He could survive a lot longer without nourishment than he assumed they could.

They ate in silence, not saying anything to each other. Vasily assumed it was because he was there, they were feeling less inclined to talk than they normally would. So, he decided to break the silence, "Somehow, Jonah, you have managed to understand the right condiment balance," said Vasily. Jonah looked up at him, and Vasily smiled in response. "Seriously, good job."

Unfortunately, that didn't start off a conversation as he'd hoped it would. Well, he'd have to try again. Letting them brood on what happened could lead to lowering of everyone's spirits, and so he decided to let them air it, however they wanted to. "I know it might be a sensitive subject, but how did you end up here, eh?"

There were a few glances shared by members of the group, before Reyes decided to answer, "We're part of an expedition to locate the lost kingdom of Yamatai, which we believed was in the Dragon's Triangle. Our ship was hit with a storm, and that's how we ended up here."

"That storm doesn't  _feel_ right," said Jonah, immediately afterward, shuddering. "This place has some  _bad_ energies."

"Jonah's right, this place doesn't feel right, I don't like it one bit," said Grim, spooning some Goulash into his mouth before handing the container to Whitman.

"Lara may have been onto something, everything that's happened so far has been in line with the legend," said Whitman, sounding more like he was thinking out loud rather than adding to the conversation. Everyone went silent at the mention of her name. Sullen faces replaced the impassive ones on everyone else's face moments ago.

A moment of observing the expression on everyone's faces, and Vasily was suddenly curious about who this 'Lara' was. What he was understanding from what Whitman had said is that this 'Lara' had something to do with the decision to move into this area. Why the storms didn't dissuade them confused him. "I don't mean to be insensitive, but who is this Lara, and if you came here on purpose, how were you not aware about the storms?" he asked.

"We were," answered Alex before anyone else had the chance to. "We just…didn't think they'd be this bad. As for Lara…Lara's our…"

"Junior Archaeologist. She and Dr. Whitman were the ones responsible for finding Yamatai," said Reyes, pausing for a moment, staring down at the base of the fire, "She's not the only crew member we're missing."

"Wee girl's barely a woman, fresh out of college," lamented Grim, silently, and quite possibly intended to be under his breath. Vasily however, just about heard him. Suddenly even he felt his heart going to the girl. This island wasn't the place for someone like her. Part of him began to wonder if there was any chance that they'd find her alive or even find her at all.

Vasily wanted to raise his voice, chastise them about not looking for her, when he realized his own stupidity. They had no means to track her, they had no way of finding out if she had even made it onto the island in the first place. He let out a sigh. "If she's out there, if there's anyone I would trust to bring her back to you alive, it's my unit," he said, the expression on his face almost matching theirs at this point.

"I appreciate that, Major," said Reyes, looking around at those around her. "I'm sure we all do."

Nodding, he pulled his balaclava back up. He wiped down his mess kit and began putting it away. "I'm going to go take a look around, make sure that no one is closing in on this position. I could do with a volunteer-"

He was interrupted by the sound of Reyes' radio coming to life. "This is Conrad Roth, captain of the  _Endurance_. We are shipwrecked on an island inside of the Dragon's Triangle-"

Reyes cut him off, "Roth! Glad to hear you made it!" Vasily could instantly hear the joy in her voice. The others' spirits immediately improved as well, particularly Grim, who seemed genuinely almost ecstatic to hear that the  _Endurance's_ captain was alive.

"Reyes! Am I glad to hear you made it, did anyone else make it off the Endurance with you?" asked Roth, static only slightly marring the audio quality. Something about his tone gave Vasily the impression that he was asking about specific people.

"Grim, Jonah, Whitman and Alex are the only ones with me now," said Reyes, looking at the other survivors behind her.

"Good to hear they made it," he said immediately after she'd finished. "Sorry to hear there aren't more." There was a perceptible pause on the other end before he added, "Have you seen or heard from Lara or Sam?"

Once more Reyes and the others exchanged saddened glances, "No, we were hoping you had." There was an uncomfortable pause for a moment before she added, "Roth, what's your position? We'll come to you?"

"Inland, you'll have to pass the ruins near the coast and come to what looks like an abandoned village," said Roth. "I can't guide you in further until you near the ruins." There was a burst of static that filled the line, something Vasily had come to recognize as someone exhaling too close to the mic. "And be careful, there are some real unsavory types around, looks like other survivors, but I can't be sure. Watch your back out there."

"You too, Roth," said Reyes, with the most sincerity he'd heard her speak with since he'd known her, which was admittedly not very long. "And listen, we've picked up someone else…" she said, voice trailing off as she looked over at him. "A Russian Special Forces Major named Beloi," she said, stumbling over the pronunciation of his name as she'd been doing so far.

"Russian Special Forces?" asked Roth, naturally confused. "What the hell are they doing here? Is he around, Reyes?" Reyes tossed the radio over to him without warning, which he caught effortlessly.

"Mr. Roth? Major Vasily Beloi, Russian Special Operations Forces. Listen, my squad and I are here to recover Russian citizens shipwrecked on this island. We'd suspected terrorist activity at first, but when a storm brought down our aircraft, and we ran into the island's natives, that is clearly no longer a viable explanation. My marksman is looking for any survivors from your ship, and I will stay with Ms. Reyes and the others. Stay alive, yes? We'll come to you, and please radio in if you think you see any of my country men," said Vasily, explaining the whole situation so there'd be no chance for misinterpretation.

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, no doubt during which the other man was thinking about all of this. "No promises, Major. Keep my people alive, and then we can have a little chat about what our next step from there is. Roth, out," said Roth. He tossed the radio back to Reyes. Deeper into the belly of the beast, turned out. Second best decision to making their way to the Antonov crash was to keep moving. He really wished that he had at least one of his squad with him, but for now their safety was his sole responsibility, and their own of course. Still, having one more well-equipped special forces operative would make life a lot easier. Then again, as per that old saying, the only easy day was yesterday.

Senior Lieutenant Sasha Voroboi

The first sign that something was wrong was the quiet. The birds' endless chatter was reduced. One person moving through the area wouldn't do this. No. Had to be a group. A decently sized group. Maybe five-six people? Perched where he was, with an effective camouflage created from twigs and leaves attached to his VOIN 3D Leaf Suit, he was almost sure that it wasn't him they were looking for. He  _knew_ who they were looking for, and Sasha couldn't allow them to do that.

Standing to his feet, Sasha extricated himself from the foliage he'd taken cover in and brought up his rifle. Where Sasha's footsteps were purposeful and slow, he could hear the approaching group. It was hard to be quiet when you were a group moving at walking speed in close proximity to one another. Sasha made sure to skirt around where he'd placed his MON-50, relieved that he'd hadn't used the seismic detonator instead.

Crouching down, he sighted down his rifle and increased the magnification, and for the first time got a decent look at the group approaching. Unlike the previous sightings, this group was well armed, and while their armor was makeshift, it had a far better coverage. Each and every one of the men wore a gas mask. What perplexed Sasha was what they were carrying. Three of the men carried AK-47s, one carried an HK-416 and the last man had what looked like a hastily repaired M14.

It seemed that the groups that had been stranded on this island prior to their arrival were far more diverse than they'd initially been led to believe. He'd have to report this in when he was done dealing with them. Taking a breath, he began to think about how he was going to deal with them. At this distance, it wasn't going to be too hard to figure out where he was once he opened fire, even though the report of his Vintorez was barely more than a cough, there was little places that they could be shot at from on this hill top.

Taking aim at the point man's head, not needing his optic system's more advanced features at fifty meters, Sasha pulled the trigger. With barely a perceptible  _cough_ , Sasha's rifle spat a round that tore through the first man's forehead, splattering the man behind him with brain matter. The others quickly recovered and began looking around for where the shots had come from.

The man who had been showered in brain matter was desperately trying to get them off of his mask, but soon gave up and tossed his mask away. Sasha rewarded him with a SP-6 armor piercing round through the brain. The others began to scatter, moving off. At this range, given that the rounds were hitting them head on, it became obvious where he was shooting from. They began putting rounds up the path they'd been taking, not with any accuracy or purpose, but with the hope of hitting him.

"Fuck, I thought those paratrooper motherfuckers were on the other side of the fucking island!" he heard one of the men swear. A smile flickered across his face. With any luck, they'd be driving these  _lokhi_  up the wall. He was sure that the others were giving them absolute hell by now. Of course, Sasha had no intention of going after the four remaining hostiles. He was going to make them come to him. Sasha rustled the leaves of a nearby bush and immediately ducked back. The bush in question was subjected to a hail of bullets.

"Come out you fuck!" swore another of the men. "Come the fuck out and I swear we'll give you a clean death. You keep this up and we'll make it slow, you hear? You fucking hear me?" Sasha was far from threatened, in fact, he was amused. Sasha couldn't quite tell where the man was right now, and so he decided he was going to give himself a slight advantage. Lowering his monocular, he turned on the thermal monitor, bathing the vision of his right eye in the infrared spectrum vision. Even against the jungle, he could see the nearest man, the dark blacks of his body easily visible against the grey spectrum of his surroundings. Rain made this difficult, but at this range, there was no disguising the heat of his weapon or his body. Sasha pulled the trigger twice, sending a pair of rounds into his torso, the arterial spray showing up momentarily on his thermal optic.

"That's it, I'm going to get this fucker!" swore the man and beginning to run forward. Sasha snapped the monocular back up and began falling back. Sixteen rounds left in the magazine, still, these idiots were running straight up the path, he didn't need to waste anymore ammunition on them. He had a feeling that things were about to get quite loud soon enough. However, the moment he stepped out of the more wooded areas, he heard shots ring out, and he could feel bullets whiz past him.

Sasha could risk staying out in the open much longer, and after putting a pair of rounds down range to discourage any more aimed fire at him, he continued to move. Sasha continued moving down the path, hearing the footfalls of his pursuers over his own. They knew he was here, there was no point in being quiet at this point. Seeing a small rock to his right, the veteran Spetsnaz sniper threw himself down behind it. Resting his rifle on the rock and waiting for his pursuers, he aimed down the sights and waited. A loud explosion a moment later put a smile on Sasha's face.

Doubling back to check that they were all dead confirmed his suspicions. The MON-50 did its job, even their weapons were not recoverable. Sasha noted that their makeshift armor had stopped a few of the pellets, but the absolute hail of pellets and the explosive wave had ensured that it didn't matter. Keying his mic, he said, "This is Voroboi, be advised, I've come across what looks like a more militarized group of the locals, they have heavier makeshift armor and are better armed. I spotted three AK-47s with them, one HK416 and an M14. Priyem."

"This is Zaitsyev, Davydova had come across similarly equipped men. Whoever they are, we have reason to believe the natives are more organized than we gave them credit for. We'll radio in once we know more about the situation. Stay sharp, konets svyazi," replied Viktor. Sasha looked down at the bodies and checked them over for anything else that could prove to be useful. He took a look at the radio he found on one of the bodies but sparking in the battery compartment reminded him that perhaps it was beyond use.

Dropping the device, Sasha began heading off to continue his search for any remaining survivors. He wished his Major luck dealing with the survivors. He didn't envy him one bit at all. Major Beloi had made sure to inform him of two particular young women he should be looking out for, that was when he'd began the trek inland with the other survivors. Sasha tried to remember their names, and a moment later, they came to him; there was a 'Lara' and a 'Sam'. This place would chew two fresh out of college girls and spit them out, Sasha was almost afraid to find them. Would they even be alive by the time he got to them?  _If_  he got to them.

He'd been walking in the rain for a while before he got anywhere of any note. It was precarious, but he managed to make his way down to an area with a house of some kind, and what looked to be some manner of path network between the trees. Once he was on the ground, he flicked down his thermal monitor. Even in the rain, it would still be of some use in target acquisition. There were deer in the area too, but for the most part they just ignored him and went about their business.

Sasha came across a structure, and quickly sweeping the area around the house, he found what looked like a skeleton with a makeshift longbow strung up by their feet. "Chevo blyat…" he breathed, looking at the skeleton. The body had clearly been around here for a while. Who were they? What were they doing on this island? Who had killed them? These were all questions that he didn't have the answers to. All he knew was that it was slowly giving him an answer about what kind of fucked up place this island is.

Sasha continued pushing up when the distinct smell of a fire entered his nose. Snapping his rifle up, he began slowly advancing up the path he was taking. The rain was loud, and Sasha was moving slowly, each footstep taken with careful consideration as to the amount of noise that it would make. By now, he could hear the fire crackling, he could hear the frantic breathing of someone trying to warm themselves up. Taking a breath and holding it for a moment, Sasha quickly came around the side of the rock in the way, and what he saw made him immediately lower his weapon.

In front of him, was a young woman. Early twenties. She had dark brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. She was clad in torn clothes, and a nasty wound in her side was leaking blood onto her tank top. The smell of blood was on her, no amount of rain was going to wash that off. What hit Sasha was the look in her eyes, the look of fear, and yet her body didn't show it. "Relax, relax," he said immediately in accented English, but with no haste in his voice. He moved his arm so that she could see his flag patch, "Russian Special Operations forces."

The sight of the patch seemed to reassure her somewhat, but she didn't say anything. The gears in Sasha's head began turning. Based on her physical state, she can't have been on the island for long, less than a day for sure. Sasha was more than willing to bet all of his pay on her being a survivor of the  _Endurance_. What were their names again? 'Govno, great time to forget, Sasha,' he thought to himself. "You are a survivor of the  _Endurance_ , right? My commanding officer is trying some of the other survivors to your ship's captain-"

The girl didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence, "Roth is alive? What about the others?" She took a moment to look him over, "And what are you doing here? What are  _Russian Special Forces_  doing on an island in the Dragon's Triangle?" Injured and cold as she was, and at complete odds with the look on her face, she crossed her arms defiantly.

"As I was about to explain, we were sent here to rescue the survivors of a Russian yacht that went down on this island. We initially suspected terrorist activity, and so our government made a deal to allow us to come in and rescue our citizens. Only when we got here, our plane ran into a freak storm completely at odds with our meteorological data. As per plan, we executed a HA- er, high altitude jump. We've been searching for our citizens since…and we've run into the island's inhabitants…when we received your SOS, my major and I were the only ones on this side of the island. He ran into your ship mates, and I ran into you," he explained, hoping that the girl would listen. It was going to make things very difficult otherwise.

Thankfully, she nodded, slowly looking away, then slumping down against the rockface behind her. Sasha looked at the poor girl, and then finally the name came to him. "Your name wouldn't happen to be Lara, would it?" he asked, pulling down his balaclava so she could see his face. She immediately turned at the mention of what was clearly her name. "My major told me to look out for you and another girl…her name was…Sam, I think?" The girl looked down at the camcorder attached to her belt.

Sasha looked at her sitting where she was. He couldn't imagine what she was going through right now. Based on her physical state, he imagined that she'd gone through a lot. All this on top of being shipwrecked? Sasha let out a sigh and then dropped down onto his knees, craning his head to look into her eyes, "Hey, listen, I'm going to do my very best to make sure that you're okay, understand?" She said nothing in response. Sasha tried introducing himself, "I am Senior Lieutenant Sasha Voroboi."

She looked up at him for a moment and then looked back down at the ground. "It's all my fault," she muttered. Sasha wondered if she was going to say anything more, and after she didn't for a minute, he wondered how to remedy this situation.

Walking over, Sasha gestured to the space beside her and asked, "Would you mind if I sat here?" Lara didn't seem to care, she shrugged and gestured beside her. Sasha sat down beside the young woman and laid his VSS Vintorez down across his lap, the barrel facing away from him, and the grip within arm's reach, just in case he hadn't seen the last of those up-armored better armed native lokhi.

There was no way he was going to be able to get her to safety in her current state. Survivor's guilt was a horrible thing to have to deal with, he'd seen Alyena struggle with it over the years. If they ever got out of this place, he doubted that he'd ever meet this girl again, but for as long as they were stuck together, he needed her to stay positive. "Look, I'm sure this can't be your fault. Why do you say this?" he asked, trying to be as supportive as he could be.

"Because…because I'm the one who suggested we should enter the Dragon's Triangle in the first place," said Lara, staring off into the distance. "I was so bloody stupid. Now we've ended up shipwrecked on this bloody island." Lara's accent was so distinct, that Sasha didn't feel like he had to try and get rid of the accent in his own speech. Sure, it was different, but hers was just as foreign to him as his was to her.

"You are what? Archaeologists? Well, everything has risks, yes? Without risk, there can be no reward," said Sasha, trying to see if he could get a response out of her. Instead, he saw her fish out the camcorder he'd seen on her person. "Oh, you have a recording of your trip?" he asked, looking down at the device. He remembered that she looked down at the device when he'd mentioned the name Sam, was this device Sam's? If so, Sasha was suddenly markedly less confident about her chances of survival.

"Look, Senior Lieutenant Voroboi, I understand what you're trying to do here," she says, looking at him at last. "I really appreciate it, but…maybe you should just watch this instead. You'll understand."

Sasha was about to nod, when he saw blood start trickling down from her wound, clearly aggravated by the movement. "How about I make a counter proposal? I'll patch up your wound, which looks really not great, and I'll let you have my chocolate rations. Sound good?"

The faintest hint of a smile flickered across her face, "Is this what you offer to all the girls? Chocolate and free medical aid?" Sasha couldn't help but laugh. So, it seemed Lara was funny when she was in the mood to be.

"Nyet, I er, Tyom-er Artyom is our squad medic," he said as he opened his pack and rifled through it for his rations. "I am one of our squad's marksmen. Snayper," he said. Sasha quickly realized her comment had thrown him off, causing him to slip into Russian here and there. Here's to hoping she didn't notice that she managed to that. He finally found his chocolate rations and handed her the bar. "Bon Appetit," he added in fluent French, one of the few languages he was fluent in.

"And they're here too, you mentioned," said Lara, taking the chocolate bar from him and looking it over, as if considering her options. "Just not on this part of the island?" she ventured, placing the chocolate bar in her lap. Lara then turned and looked at him, waiting for his answer.

"Yes, the storm separated us when we made the jump," he answered, nodding. He didn't give her any specifics. Compartmentalization was important. If she was captured and questioned, as much as she'd managed to last this long despite whatever hell she'd gone through thus far, he didn't think that she'd last very long. In such a case, he could not afford to have her give away the position of his squad mates.

Fishing out his medical kit, Sasha looked at the wound, wincing once more. He'd been shot at plenty of times, this was not that. Something had impaled her at some point, recently too. She was bleeding a lot; blood loss was going to be a problem. Just in case, he'd have to ask, "Two things, Lara. First, could you please lift your shirt, so I can clean and stitch your wound? And second, what blood type are you?"

Lara looked hesitant, and so Sasha added hastily, "You are not the first woman I have patched up. Artyom usually does it, but I'm not bad, trust me." She looked at his face, looked into his eyes for a moment before she let out a sigh, and nodded reluctantly. She slowly lifted up the side of her top, displaying a toned, muscled midsection and a very nasty looking wound that was still slowly oozing blood.

"O blyat," he breathed as he looked at the wound. He'd seen plenty of nasty looking wounds in his time, and this was certainly up there with them. The sudden apprehension and concern immediately showed on Lara's face. Sasha immediately put on his best smile in an attempt to reassure her. He could tell that it didn't really work. He opened the kit, pulling out a sealed packet containing surgical gloves which he swapped his own for.

"AB negative," said Lara at last. "I've never received battlefield medical aid before, I must admit that I am more than a little nervous." She didn't need to tell him that, he could tell that quite easily on his own. Unfortunately for Lara, none of them were AB negative, fortunately Captain Zaitsyev was O negative. If they desperately needed blood for her, they could use his.

"Hold onto my left arm, if you want me to stop, press hard," he said, looking at her before he returned his attention to cleaning up the wound. Lara took that as her cue and took hold of his arm. With the entry cleaned up, he began preparing to stitch the wound back up. Attaching the pre-sterilized thread to the surgical needle, Sasha thought it best to keep her mind off of what he was doing, "How did you manage to get this wound anyways? Debris, or maybe some kind of snare?"

Lara became visibly uncomfortable, and Sasha wasn't sure if it was because of what he asked or what he was about to do. "Easy…you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, yes? Just, maybe, talk about something you're comfortable about. Like, maybe, what kind of music do you listen to?"

"Classical and rock as well," said Lara, seeming to become more at ease. Sasha chose this moment to start sewing, and got promptly chastised for it as well, "Ow, watch it you bloody twit." Sasha winced, and a sheepish grin formed on his face as he continued working on sewing the wound back together. There was an awkward paused before Lara came up with a question of her own, "What about you, Mr. Spetsnaz?"

He looked up for a moment, a thin-lipped smile flickering across this features before he returned his attention to the task at hand, "Only partially accurate. I served in Chechnya. Not quite the Spetsnaz you are thinking of anymore. Different unit. As for my music choice? Well, classical sometimes, I like my Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff. Though usually it is rock and power metal." He paused for a moment, and then followed up with another relatively easy question, "Favorite food? Or top three if you cannot pick."

Lara's next answer was quick, "Beans on toast. Easy." She then paused as though she was considering her answer and then added quickly, "Though I do have a fondness for Jaffa cakes." She didn't ask him a follow up question, which prompted Sasha to look up at her face once more, and seeing the expression on it, assumed that something about that conversation had brought up memories. "Did your major say who he was with?" she asked, the tone in her voice implying that she already knew the answer to what she was saying.

"Besides a Conrad Roth, yours and this 'Sam', no. No other names were mentioned," he said, and saw instantly how her face fell. Sasha finished up stitching the front and began preparing the dressing. "Okay, how about this, yes? I will get my major on the radio after I am done patching you back up, and I'll ask him." This seemed to put Lara somewhat more at ease. Sasha applied the dressing over the stitched up wound and then began cleaning the wound on her back.

"You know, Sasha…it's not as bad as I thought it'd be," admits Lara as he begins cleaning the wound on her back. He smiles, even though she cannot see it. She keeps looking forward, and it was probably a whole minute later before she finally spoke again, "Did you always want to…you know, do this?" She winces as he begins stitching the wound on her back.

Sasha thought about her question. The simple answer was no, but truth was that he didn't really know what he wanted to do. "Not always, no," he said, pausing for a moment to compose his thoughts. "I wanted to be an art student, but my parents and I disagreed. I couldn't afford university, so I joined the army."

"You wanted to be an art student?" she asked, giving him a quizzical look. "Well I suppose it makes sense that you're a sniper, you must have an eye for detail." Sasha nodded, and once more a smile flickered across her face. "Are you still any good?"

Sasha nodded half-heartedly and then says equally half-heartedly, "I carry a sketch book with me. I can show you some of my work later, if you are interested." He looks up at her to see her response, and seeing her nod earnestly, he nods and continues working. "You know, you are very young for an archaeologist," he adds, the thought stumbling out without much further thought on the matter.

"Fresh out of university," breathed Lara, realizing how it must have looked to him. "We didn't think that it would ever get this bad…" She let out a sigh, "And…I understand that you can't always protect us. After all, you have a mission here as well."

Sasha nodded. For someone her age, Lara was very mature. "No, we can't. I promise you, Lara, that I, Senior Lieutenant Sasha Voroboi will make sure that you get off this island alive. Mission or not, you can count on that." It was a bad idea, a stupid idea that he was kicking himself for the moment the words left his mouth.

Lara looked taken aback by the gesture, and moments later a smile formed on her face, "I appreciate the gesture, Sasha. Thank you." Did that mean she understood that he'd made a promise that he knew there was a high chance he couldn't keep? Sasha was never very good at understanding women. So far, the conversation had been relatively simple and mostly one sided in terms of who was driving it.

Sasha nodded, when something occurred to him, "You know, I never got your full name. Don't have to tell me if you don't want, but since you know mine…" Sasha let out a somewhat awkward sounding chuckle, after which he placed the dressing on top of the stitches on her back.

Lara seemed to hesitate, but then she added, "It's Croft. Lara Croft." Sasha then became distinctly aware of how closely Lara was looking at him for any sign of a reaction.

Croft, that was a familiar name to him. He remembered reading about a British archaeologist who committed suicide, it had been all over the news for a while. "Like the archaeologist? You are Richard Croft's…daughter?" he asked, rinsing his hands of her blood with disinfectant before taking them off. As he was packing up the medical kit, he looked up at her expectantly for her answer.

"Yes," said Lara defiantly. "And you can keep your judgement to yourself, I've heard it and worse." Sasha was a little stunned by the sudden hostility, but he realized that it wasn't really directed toward him. The whole business with her father must have been messy, he couldn't imagine what she'd gone through because of it. Sasha sighed softly as he put his own gloves back on and the kit back into his pack.

"No, no judgement. We are not who we are because of our parents," he said, something he firmly believed in. "We are who we are because of what  _we_ do. You think my mother and father chose this path for me? They didn't want me to waste my life, but I'm sure given the choice they would have preferred that I did not have to go through what I did."

"Did people who trusted you die because of a decision that you made?" she asked him, the sadness in her eyes evident. He knew she was talking about the shipwreck, and about her decision to go into the Dragon's Triangle.

"In my line of work? I'm sure it has happened, but I try not to think about it," he answered honestly. "It's a dark path to wander down…one very hard to come out from. I should know, one of my close friends struggles with it. You remind me a little bit of her." Both Alyena and Lara were very strong women, they were both survivors. He could see that much in Lara. Lara nodded slowly. Once his kit was packed up, he sat down next to her, "So, are you going to eat that chocolate bar or what?"

Lara looked at him, frowning for a moment, and then she smiled, "God, you're  _impossible_." Sasha smiled as well, chuckling. Shaking her head, she picked up the chocolate bar that he'd given her earlier and began removing the wrapper.

"Not the first time I've been told that," he said, and then nodded at the camcorder. "I remember you wanted me to see something on there." He lay his rifle back down across his own lap and turned to face Lara expectantly.

Lara half smiled at him and pulled out the camcorder, opening side mounted screen, she played the most recent clip.

" _Here's the soon to be world famous archaeologist, Lara Croft, in her natural habitat," narrated the camera woman. The footage was of Lara working at a desk with several sheets of handwritten notes, a notebook and a laptop on the desk. The view panned around the room till it settled on a mirror, showing the camera woman at last. "She's on the hunt for the lost kingdom of Yamatai, home to the fabulous Himiko, mythical Sun Queen…and ancestor of yours truly."_

Based on the age of the camera woman, Sasha assumed that she was the woman named 'Sam' that he'd been told to keep an eye out for. "Hold on," said Sasha, prompting Lara to pause the playback. "My squad mate, Pavel, was mentioning a local story about a mystical island ruled by a 'Sun Queen'. That is the same island you are looking for?" Lara nodded, and then hit the play button.

" _Sam, this is serious," chided Lara, whom the focus was now back on._

" _Oh sweetie, I know," admitted Sam. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood here. Everyone's so on edge! What are you so worried about?"_

" _I'm close to something," said Lara, looking away from the camera for a moment. "I'm sure of it. I just don't know if the others will listen…Or, even if they should…"_

" _Lara, you know this stuff much better than anyone!" said Sam. "Seriously. I'm not just saying this to make you feel better. I trust you…Roth trusts you! You got this." This got Lara's attention, and she turned back toward the camera, "Now let's take a break, okay?"_

" _Okay, okay!" conceded Lara. "And Sam? Thanks."_

_The camera panned around the room once before turning around to face the camera woman, "She's not always this serious, you know?" It followed her moving out of the room._

_The scene changed to what looked like the galley of a ship, he could hear the sounds of what sounded like two men cheering respective football teams on, a sound Sasha was not unused to. "How can you suggest I'm not serious about this expedition, Lara?" asked a male sounding voice, one that Sasha was unfamiliar with. The camera panned midway through the man's sentence to show Lara, a man Sasha didn't recognize and Sam, whose face was hidden behind what looked like a map. "it's not just Sam's family funding us, I've put my savings on the line too."_

" _We've all got some kind of stake in this," said a dark-skinned woman whom the camera was now centered on. "The funding won't last forever, Whitman." Sasha assumed that 'Whitman' was the man's name._

" _That's precisely why we should pus east, not west," protested Lara, the camera was now framing her argument with this 'Whitman'._

" _No one believes Yama..." started Whitman before laughter from behind him cut him off, and the camera panned left to show a very excited older man behind him. "No one believes Yamatai's that far east. The books simply don't support it!"_

" _Well, whoever wrote those books never found Yamatai," pointed out Sam, the camera panned to include her._

" _I've talked to Roth about this," said Lara. Sasha remembered that Conrad Roth was the ship's captain. Lara's confidence implied that she already had his approval. "There's no point in following in other people's footsteps, Dr. Whitman." The honorific she used in conjunction with the subject matter told Sasha that Whitman was clearly the senior archaeologist._

_Whitman shook his head before adding, "I refuse to bet my reputation on your hunch!" Now that was unnecessarily harsh, Sasha didn't have a particularly high opinion of this Whitman already. He confirmed Sasha's theory with his next statement, "I'm the lead archaeologist here."_

" _And when were you last in the field without a TV crew behind you?" asked the same old man who was cheering before._

" _I've got thirty years' experience, two PhDs, one in east Asian history. So why don't you just stick to boats, Mr. Grim?" retorted Whitman. A part of Sasha wanted to smack this Whitman. The more and more he heard him, he sounded like a bully. Like most intellectual bullies, he thrived off belittling others to get them to cow down._

_To the man named Grim's credit, he responded quickly, "Ship, Dr. Whitman. It's a ship. Don't need a PhD to know that." Sasha couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, Lara even smiled._

" _Look, going east will take us directly into the Dragon's Triangle. That's where we need to go," argued Lara, sounding exasperated._

" _Lara my Little Bird…" said another man, large and heavily tattooed with the beginnings of a mohawk on his head. "I'd follow you almost anywhere, but that place has a bad energy."_

" _Bad storms more like," said another voice, the owner of which the camera panned to show. He was a bespectacled man sitting behind a laptop. "Makes the Bermuda Triangle look like Disney World…sign me up." Sasha couldn't help but chuckle at this, even though he hadn't been to Disney World himself, he knew enough about it for the joke to not be completely lost on him._

" _The stories about Queen Himiko say that she could summon storms. Myths are usually based on some version of the truth. What if Yamatai was somewhere in the Triangle itself?" argued Lara._

" _Look, this is the satellite imagery from inside the Dragon's Triangle," said the same man with the laptop._

" _That doesn't look good," observed Sam. Sasha concurred, that was a strong enough storm to have postponed Search and Rescue operations no matter who was stuck down there. Only thing that would have got them through a storm like that was a submarine, and Sasha didn't see his government diverting a submarine._

"Now hold on, you're telling me that this Queen Himiko could summon storms, and clearly your metrological data showed that the island was exhibiting storm like behavior at the time," said Sasha. "When we were en route, our data showed no signs that the island was about to be hit by a storm, let alone the storm that was strong enough to bring down our aircraft."

"You don't seriously believe there's more to this myth, do you Sasha?" asked Lara, pausing the footage and looking up him.

"I certainly think that this is too convenient to be a coincidence, though I must admit that it sounds impossible to me as well," said Sasha. He didn't believe in this sort of thing, but right now he wasn't sure what to believe as far as their current circumstances were concerned. Sasha sighed, "Well, I'll just keep watching I suppose." Lara nodded and hit the play button.

" _if it's wet, I can sail on it," said the man named Grim, who had by that statement revealed himself to be the ship's helmsman._

" _Oh, don't tell me you're seriously considering…" started Whitman before a man he assumed to be Conrad Roth cut him off._

" _Enough! Reyes is right, we don't have the funds to piss about," said Roth, turning around to address the group. Sasha couldn't help but be impressed by the attention he commanded; all eyes were on him. "It's now or never. Lara's offering fresh ideas and a plan. I'm the captain here, it's my decision. We're going into the Dragon's Triangle."_

_This seemed to upset Whitman, who bent down to pick up something from the table and as he stood back up said, "Why am I even here?" He glanced at both Roth and Lara before walking to the other end of the ship's galley._

_Roth turned back to the map, and he heard Lara audibly sigh, "Go on…Show us your plan."_

"You see why this is all my fault now?" asked Lara, looking at Sasha. "If I didn't come up with that bloody  _stupid_ idea to go into the triangle, despite all the storms, we'd have never been in this situation."

"Lara, I don't know your captain Roth very well, but I'm sure he would not have supported your decision if he didn't think it was a good one," countered Sasha. "You all understood the risks associated, but  _no one_ could have predicted this would happen. We sure as hell didn't. We are Sily Spetsial'nykh Operatsii and archaeologist in the same situation. So…as I once told a dear friend of mine, will blaming yourself change the situation? No? Then stop doing it."

Lara nodded thoughtfully, staying silent for almost several minutes as she clearly considered what he'd said. "Maybe," she said, letting out a sigh. "But there's no doubt that I played a part in this."

Sasha reluctantly nodded, "Maybe, but then so did Mr. Roth, and the others for not saying anything if they thought that it was dangerous. What does it matter now, Lara? All that matters now is getting off this island, alive, yes? Surviving? If you're going to do that, then you're going to have to stop blaming yourself." It was Lara's turn to nod reluctantly.

He reached into his patrol pack, looking for two things. The first was a waterproof sketchbook that he took everywhere with him, his waterproof pen tucked into the book's spiral binding. The second was his ration pack, which was remarkably easy to find. It was already open, he'd taken a moment to eat not too long before he had to relocate thanks to the arrival of the better armed group of locals. "Here," he said, handing Lara his sketchbook. "Something for you to take a look at while I make some dinner. Do you prefer meatballs or beef with buckwheat? I've got some pate too."

"Meatballs, please," said Lara, taking the sketchbook with both hands and looking it over before the latter part of his statement registered in her head. "Hold on a moment, you get pate as a part of your rations?"

"It's not some fancy European recipe," said Sasha, shrugging as he opened the tin of Pashtet. The smell itself made him feel better already, putting a smile on his face. "It's not as good as my mama or babushka's but is still good. Here, some crackers to spread it on," he said, handing her the Pashtet and crackers. Putting the sketchbook on her lap, she took the crackers and Pashtet, placing them to her left.

Sasha was tempted to use Lara's fire, but given that he was a bad enough cook such that he tended to overcook his rations, he decided to use the fuel tablets. After all, any way he could minimize the risk of burning them, the better. After lighting the tablet and placing Lara's meal on the burner, he checked his watch. "I would have thought that you know the time it takes to cook that by now," said Lara, looking up from the sketchbook.

"I'm not a good cook," conceded Sasha. "In fact, I'm a pretty govno cook. So, it helps to know how long I need to keep it on. Otherwise you might have overcooked meatballs."

Lara laughed, "And here I thought that you were the man for all seasons." Sasha didn't look up from his cooking, but laughed nonetheless. Silence settled in for a good moment, the constant downfall of rain drowned out all other sounds. "These are good, Sasha," said Lara, and for a moment he thought she was talking about the Pashtet when he saw her holding up his sketchbook.

"That your friend?" she asked, referring to the page she had open which had a sketch of Alyena from when they'd gone to Sochi for break. Viktor and Illya's wives had joined them, as had Major Beloi's girlfriend. It was one of his fondest memories, the chance for all of them to unwind and relax. Sasha nodded. "She's beautiful," said Lara looking over the sketch. With all of this going on, Sasha almost forgot to take her food off. Cursing, he removed the container and pulled out one of the plastic forks that came with the ration pack.

Sasha nodded in response to her earlier statement. "You remind me of her." As he put her fork into the container, his eyes widened in realization at what he'd said. "I mean, er-" he started, stuttering as he wondered what to do.

"I'm flattered, Sasha," said Lara, smiling politely at him. Thankfully, she didn't address this any further, instead opening to a page where he'd sketched Major Beloi and GRU Senior Lieutenant Alexandra Lebedeva. "Who're they?"

"My commanding officer, and his significant other," said Sasha. He put his own meal onto the burner, checking the time on his watch before adding, "There's a nice sketch of the Kremlin on the next page, and then the Taj Mahal from our time in India." He then brought her food over, "But maybe that can wait, it is best you get some food in you."

"Thank you," said Lara, smiling and nodding her thanks as well as she took the container from him. Sasha went back to watching over his own meal, and after a moment or so, silence had set in once more between the two of them. Lara however, broke the silence, "You know, you're not a bad cook after all." Sasha just smiled.

_That morning_

The first watch had been easy, and Sasha had elected to mine both approaches for the second. At the start of the morning watch, Sasha fell asleep. Years of sleeping in hostile locations had made Sasha a light sleeper, pistol in one hand and knife in the other, the veteran Spetsnaz commando had fallen asleep across from the young archaeologist. At about 4:30 AM, thirty minutes into the morning watch, Sasha's radio crackled to life, "Voroboi, eto Abramovna, kak ponyal?"

Snapping awake, his pistol in his hands, Sasha began looking around for any signs of hostiles purely out of force of habit. When he realized it was his radio, he sighed, and keying his mic, he responded with, "Ponyal. What's the situation? Priyem."

"Pasha and Tyoma found a camp where they're holding prisoners, we have credible reason to believe that they're the ones we're looking for. Priyem," responded Abramovna. Sasha groaned, glancing over at Lara for a moment, holstering his weapon and sheathing his knife.

"I've got one of the survivors from the  _Endurance_ with me. What makes them so sure that it's one of ours? Priyem," asked Sasha as he gathered up his rifle, stretching to get rid of some of the stiffness that had set in.

"They're wearing Wagner uniforms, and they're about as calm as you or I would be with a few dozen armed thugs surrounding them. Priyem," answered Natalya. Sasha's eyes widened in realization. Their briefing had said that Wagner had provided security for the trip in the event of piracy and/or presence of terrorists.

"How many prisoners? Priyem?" asked Sasha as he made his way over to the first MON-50 to deactivate it. If they secured them, then maybe they could gain some more information about what happened here and the status of the other survivors. He glanced over at Lara and let out a sigh. What was she going to do without him?

"Two, and they've seen better days, but they'll be fine according to Tyoma. There's a lot of them down here, Sasha, and we can't take the risk of losing these two Wagner guys in the crossfire. Priyem," replied Natalya. Sasha knew that they'd need his help, given how willing their enemy would be to kill their own prisoners, this was a job that expecting even three Special Operations Forces operatives to pull off was perhaps too much to ask for. If they had to wipe the camp off the face of the world, Sasha was sure they'd be able to do it without his help. Hell, he was sure that Artyom and Pavel could handle it on their own.

"Alright, mark your location, I'll make my way to your location. Priyem," said Sasha, packing up the MON-50 in front of him and making his way to the other one. "Can you tell Major Beloi to keep an eye out for her? I'm worried about sending her alone." Sasha remembered that Major Beloi had mentioned that night that he was going to set out with his group early, with any luck, he'd pick up Lara, make his way to the  _Endurance's_ captain and all would be well.

"Ponyal, we'll wait for you. Try not to take too long, konets svyazi," said Natalya. A moment later, as he was packing up the second MON-50, his NPI-2 GLONASS receiver beeped. Sasha packed up the last mine and put it back in his pack. He then glanced back down at Lara, and walking over, he bent down and shook her gently.

Lara awoke without too much more effort, at first it was in panic, but then she relaxed when she realized that it was him. "Good morning. It's a little early, I understand, but this is important," he said, deciding to start there. Lara nodded groggily in response. "I have to go and help my squad with liberating some of the survivors we were looking for. If I am not back in two hours, follow the coast until you reach some ruins, you'll know them when you see them. My major will be waiting for you there with your crew."

Sasha pulled out the tea from the ration pack and bending down, he reached for his sketchbook, pulling out a page, he left it at the camp site before packing up what was left of the ration pack and his sketchbook. "Good luck, Sasha," sleepily wished Lara. Sasha nodded and then began making his way toward the marker on his GLONASS receiver.

The route to the marker wasn't exactly free of the locals. Sasha had ambushed what looked to him, like a two-man patrol. What perplexed him was the weapons that they were using; a pair of old, World War II era submachine guns. Type 100s, if he recalled correctly. The veteran Spetsnaz operative reached the marker before very long, running into Pavel who stepped out of his cover when he saw him. "You made it. I was starting to think that we would have to start the fun without you, Sasha," he said. "Don't you have some survivor to watch?"

"And miss all the fun, Pasha?" asked Sasha walking past Pavel towards where he presumed Artyom and Natalya were. "Besides, I told her to meet up with Major Beloi if I am not finished here in time. She'll be fine." Sasha wasn't sure if that was going to be the case, but he dearly hoped it to be.

" _She_?" asked Pavel, his eyebrows raising in question. "Is  _she_ pretty, Sasha?" he asked, nudging Sasha in the side. Sasha glanced at him quizzically. "Listen, I know you can't cook, and it is a good thing that you don't have to drive anywhere here, but women like the artistic types, and you can certainly look after her."

"She-," started Sasha before stopping himself and changing his statement, "is none of your business, Pasha. Leave it alone." Pavel held his left hand up. Sasha shook his head. Sure, he'd had a longer conversation with Lara than most women, and while he thought of Natalya like a younger sister…he could see there being something. He almost smacked himself. 'Get it together, Sasha, what are you, a teenager?'

As they walked on, Artyom waved the two of them to come closer, to a slight clearing in the tree line where he and Natalya were laying prone. Natalya had her binoculars out and was surveying what Sasha presumed was the camp below. Sasha dropped to a knee beside Natalya and raising his rifle surveyed the area himself. It was then that he realized just why it was that they'd called him. This place was going to take some  _serious_ effort to clear out.

"They're bringing them out now," whispered Natalya. Sasha saw it too. The two Wagner operatives were being led out into the center of the camp under armed guard. Sasha couldn't quite catch the conversation, but he didn't need to be able to hear the conversation to know an execution when he saw one.

Sasha quickly looked around the camp. The big problem for them to deal with was the machine gun nest in the makeshift guard tower in the center of the camp. The walls were flimsy, ageing barbed wire wrapped around rotting wooden poles. There were hostiles  _everywhere_. There was a cluster of them around the prisoners; two behind and two flanking what looked to be the one questioning them. Scattered groups loitered around the camp, while others walked around the perimeter. They outnumbered them maybe eight to one.

The camp itself occupied most of the clearing in front of them, that much was clear to him from where he was. The slight rise that they were on gently sloped down toward the right, allowing easy ingress and egress. The dense foliage would provide them adequate concealment and would slow pursuit in the event that they didn't manage to neutralize all of the hostiles in the camp. There was plenty of vegetation around, but it was lush, starting a forest fire wouldn't really be something that they'd have to worry about.

Those were more than fair odds, but they'd need a diversion to keep the attention off the prisoners and to cause disarray. Sasha's eyes fell on the GM-94 slung across Pavel's back. "I've got a plan," he whispered, and then all eyes were on him. "Pasha, if you put a thermobaric into the tower, the shockwave will kill the crew and neutralize the guns. I will stay here and pick off the team around the prisoners. Natasha, you and Tyoma push in through the main entrance, that is after Pavel puts a high explosive round there, it will take care of the team guarding the entrance. Ponyal?"

"Better than Tyoma's plan about placing diversionary explosives," said Pavel, unslinging the weapon and unfolding the stock. He then turned to Natalya and Artyom, "Well, ladies first, da?" Natalya first gave him a tired glance, and then sighed. Artyom was desperately trying to sign from behind her to Pavel to not get up to his usual antics. Sasha was admittedly curious about what had happened to Natalya but decided to ask Artyom later.

"Just because you do not want to get shot first," she grumbled as she and Artyom rushed to move into position. Pavel shrugged and then he moved off as well to take up a firing position from where he could provide supporting fire with his GM-94. Sasha settled his crosshairs on the man questioning the two Wagner operatives, allowing his optic system to compensate for the conditions. Sasha could do it in his sleep, but the Rys-LD was just so convenient, especially when using the Vintorez.

"Na pozitsii, priyem," said Pavel over the radio. A moment later, Natalya echoed his words. Sasha's finger tightened around the trigger in preparation.

"Agon," he whispered, pulling the trigger and sending a single SP-6 round out from his Vintorez that splattered the brains of the interrogator on his two bodyguards and also on one of the Wagner operatives who was kneeling a little too close to the man. The locals didn't get time to react, the watchtower detonated in a blinding flash of flames. Sasha pulled the trigger again, hitting one of the guards behind them in the chest, the sudden splash of vitae making it clear that he'd hit a vital artery.

The entrance exploded a moment later, with the distinctive resonating  _boom_  of high explosive. The acrid smoke from the thermobaric round's detonation had barely began to disperse when the makeshift watchtower began to collapse in on itself. "Ya pashol, priyem," called Artyom. Sasha pulled himself back from his optic and caught sight of Artyom and Natalya pushing up toward the entrance.

By the time he returned his attention to the two Wagner operatives, he could see that they'd turned the tide on their captors. One of them was bashing in the skull of the man formerly pointing a weapon at him with his knee. The other man, more injured than his comrade, was keeping another pinned. The other local who'd formerly been keeping them at gunpoint was dead, likely shot by Pavel.

Sasha began engaging a new group that emerged from one of the ramshackle structures that dotted the camp, putting a round through the first man's head, and then putting a pair of rounds through the torsos of two others before they realized that they were being engaged. Nine rounds left in the current magazine. Armor piercing rounds ripped through the remnants of the sheet metal structure they were using as cover courtesy of Artyom, and Natalya put rounds into their back as they attempted to fall back.

Caught completely by surprise, the natives had been almost completely routed. The final group of survivors were caught in a pitched firefight with the two Wagner operatives who'd liberated what looked like their own weapons from the men who'd held them at gunpoint using them. The two Wagner men were in no mood for mercy, and it became clear to Sasha that he wouldn't need to expend any ammunition to aid them. Swiftly, he began making his way toward the camp.

Wordlessly, the Special Operations Forces operatives regrouped and advanced the recently liberated Wagner operatives. As the former approached the latter, there was a tense moment where they pointed weapons at each other before one of the Wagner men, slowly lowered his weapon. "SOF, for us?" he asked.

"Da," replied Sasha, slowly lowering his VSS Vintorez and flicking the fire selector switch back down to semi-automatic. "We got your last SOS, and given the area, we suspected terrorist activity, just…"

"Not some pizdec island in the middle of yebanny nowhere crawling with crazy lokhi trying to kill you rambling about sacrifices and whatever else…" completed Pavel. In usual fashion, Pavel was apt, if not somewhat inappropriate, not that anyone in the present company really cared.

"Eto mesto pizdec," agreed the man, nodding. "We got hired on as security for the same reason, pirates, terrorists, whatever," he added, waving his left hand dismissively, emphasizing that neither of those were remotely relevant to the current situation, his right still firmly holding the grip of his AEK-971. "This place…" The Wagner operative was a big man, six foot three inches and heavily muscled. He had closely cropped black hair and piercing green eyes. To see him at a loss for words when talking about this place concerned all of them.

"What happened here?" asked Artyom, the concern in his voice evident. "You shipwrecked, you got your SOS out and then what?" Artyom managed to get the man to focus, he looked at Artyom and then let out a sigh.

"We established a perimeter around the crash, where we made our camp," he said at last after almost a minute's deliberation. "There were eight of us then…I had seven men under my command." His face twisted into a scowl before shifting into a desperate plea for empathy, "Look at us now! There's two of us!"

"Chuvak, we'll make sure you get vengeance for your men, but right now we need to know what happened. There's another ship that has been wrecked here,  _our_ plane was forced down,  _any_ information you can give us is helpful," said Artyom, almost pleading with the man at this point to tell them  _anything_.

The man nodded, "The civilians were easy enough to deal with, they were all rich and pampered, none of them were used to any sort of hardship. They listened to what we had to say. Two of my men found some guy wandering around near the edge of the camp, he claimed to be a survivor of a previous wreck. He was an old man, harmless right? We should have never believed a word he fucking said. Now this Mathias guy seemed decent at first, and he was pretty popular with the civvies, old man with stories to tell."

He let out a sigh, "One of my patrols encountered our first hostile contact. Some crazy man who'd ran screaming at one of my sentries. I left two of my men to watch the civvies, one to smooth things over with them, and I took Ivan here to go and check in with the sentry." He ran his hand through his dirty closely cropped hair. "We barely got far before we got reports from the other sentries that they were under attack. Hostiles were pouring out of the fucking jungle. First, it was just crazed fucking madmen with bladed weapons, but when I lost my first man to a hand thrown stick of dynamite and the second to some fucker with an Amerikantsy M14, I led the three of us on a diversionary attack to buy time for the others to lead the surviving civvies away."

"The three of us, that is Ivan, Vanya and I, led these lokhi on a merry chase," said the man. "Andrei, who I had left to smooth things out with the civvies, reported that many of the civvies had simply surrendered to the madmen rather than stay with him. So, konechno, the three of us linked up with my marksman Ruslan, and we tried to track them down. By the time we got to where they were being held, most of them were dead or missing."

"Andrei calls in an hour later, we can hear sounds of a pitched firefight, he says that he's in a bad situation. Kirill and Semyon are dead, and he is badly injured. Only people left with him are a young couple from Saint Petersburg. They just moved to Sochi…this cruise was supposed to be for their anniversary. Maxim, and Anastasia…" he continued, staring out at nothing as he finished his sentence. "Four of us, by the time we reached Andrei's position, we found Andrei, Ruslan and Semyon all dead. Their gear was gone, and so were Maxim and Anastasia. Nothing left to do, we tried to track down where they'd taken Anastasia. You know, save the civilians, kill the bastards."

The man looked like he was about to cry now. Ivan, his compatriot, put a hand on his shoulder. Ivan didn't look like he was much better off either. Ivan cleared his throat when he saw that his friend couldn't continue and did so himself, "The location was too heavily fortified, but we didn't care at this point. Ruslan covered us, and we managed to get to where they were holding Anastasia, we couldn't find Maxim. We barely managed to get out with Ruslan covering us." He closed his eyes, and lowered his head, massaging his temples. "It was second watch when they came. They killed Vanya in his sleep, Ruslan managed to take a few of the bastards with him before they got him too. They had Anastasia at gunpoint before Mikhail or I could reach our weapons," he said without opening his eyes or looking at any of them.

"That was when they brought us here, and took Anastasia somewhere else," said Mikhail. "I was sure we were dead…I'm not sure Anastasia has that luxury." He then looked over the four of them before adding, "They kept talking about some sacrifice or something. Only thing we know about them is that they call themselves the 'Solarii' or some other govno like that. You mentioned your plane crashed here? Parachute insertion? HALO jump?"

Sasha nodded, "Da, we were inserted by An-26, we were forced to jump early when a storm suddenly showed up out of nowhere. Same storm caused the latest shipwreck too. Yours also, I understand?" Sasha presumed the man was former VDV or perhaps even Spetsnaz.

Mikhail nodded, "I was with the VDV in Kosovo and Chechnya. Even the hell in the Caucasus doesn't compare to this place…There is  _nothing_ right about this place. The storms…the locals…" Sasha wasn't superstitious  _or_ religious, but he agreed. Nothing about this place made any sense.

"We've set up a fall back location where our aircraft crashed, we're holding just fine. I like to think that is because of you and your men," said Sasha, smiling supportively even though Mikhail couldn't see it. He nodded at Pavel and Artyom, "This Lieutenant Morozov and Chyornyj. They'll escort you back, and get you patched up and comfortable. My Captain will be there."

Mikhail looked like he was going to argue, but then just nodded and held his hand out, shaking each and every one of their hands. Ivan did too. "Thank you. If you can save that poor girl, please…please help her." Sasha nodded hastily, and the look in Mikhail's eyes told Sasha that he  _knew_ it was a longshot.

"Well gentlemen, let's get going then, da?" asked Pavel, earning a nod from the two Wagner men, who turned and followed after him. Artyom nodded at Natalya and him and then turned to leave, bringing up the rear.

Natalya turned to him, "So, we search this place and then back to that girl you were watching? Sasha nodded, and the two began looking through the camp to check for anything that could be useful to them.

Lara Croft,  _two hours ago_

The sounds of rain had dulled by the time she'd woken up. Her first groggy thoughts were if the previous day's events had all been one long bizarre dream? Did the  _Endurance_ really shipwreck on an island in the Dragon's Triangle? Was she really abducted and held by some…madman? Did she really spend the evening with a Russian Special Forces sniper? The blurry image that greeted her as her eyes fluttered open provided an affirmative answer to all of the preceding questions.

She sat up with a start, vaguely remembering what the special forces soldier had told her. How much longer had she been asleep? Too much longer it seemed, seeing as the sun was already quite high in the sky. Sighing, she looked around, the first thing her eyes fell on was the paper that was left close to her. A smile formed on her face as she realized what it was. It was a detailed sketch of her smiling. Her mind flashed back to their conversation the previous night. She turned it around, seeing a short caption written on it, 'To Lara Croft, a reminder that there is still a reason to smile. -Sasha Voroboi.'

Lara carefully folded it and placed it in her pocket. A growl from her stomach reminded her that while she'd eaten well last night, she had also lost a lot of blood, and was justifiably still hungry. "I can't just sit here," she audibly reminded herself, standing up. "I've got to find something to eat." She remembered Sasha telling her which direction to follow in the event that he was not back in two hours and decided to start in that direction.

She followed the path, her boots making squelching sounds on the wet undergrowth. As she moved, she saw a deer in the distance and instantly the idea crossed her mind. Of course, she couldn't quite kill it with her bare hands. She needed to find a weapon. Lost in thought as she was, she nearly stumbled as a bird flew past her face. Thankfully for her self-confidence, she managed to stop herself from falling. She kept moving until she saw what looked like a dilapidated old stone hut, and far worse; a skeleton hanging from a rope tied to its feet. "Oh god, what's going on here?"

She then saw the bow that was on the skeleton. Nothing fancy, just a makeshift longbow from the looks of it. "Wait, I can use that bow!" she told herself, finding that talking to herself made her feel less alone. She didn't know him well, but she already missed having Sasha around. He was in the very least, pleasant company. She debated trying to use her radio to contact him, she knew he had one, but realized that his was on a different frequency and likely encrypted as well. Crossing the stream, moved closer to the stone hut.

Finding an abandoned quiver, she picked it up and looking it over, decided she was going to take it. Slinging it over her shoulder, she looked up at the roof of the hut. She could scale it, easily. Standing on a box next to the hut, she used the height advantage to grab the ledge, pulling herself up. Lara looked across and saw that she had one more hurdle till she could get to the tree; a long jump from the roof onto what looked like a rocky outcropping. Taking a running leap, she made it across.

The impact of her landing sent pain arcing up her side, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. Pain was only temporary, and she was sure that she wasn't exerting herself too much such that she was going to open up the stitches. The next step was across a branch that had been laid across from the rock to a split in the tree. Walking across, she nearly lost her balance for a moment but drawing on skill and experience she managed to right herself and make it across, grabbing the trunk for balance.

"I can do this," she said, reminding herself that despite everything that had happened, this was not the first time she'd done this sort of thing. Stepping forward, she grabbed onto a perpendicular smaller branch, and taking several breaths to calm herself, she began reaching out to grab the bow once the skeleton swayed closer to her. Grabbing onto it with one arm, it didn't budge, and she foolishly grabbed onto it with both. This caused her to lose her balance, then her footing and then came the inevitable fall.

As she opened her eyes, she was reminded of what a distinctly idiotic idea that was by the pain arcing up her side. She stood up and immediately dusted herself off when she saw the skeleton in front of her. Glancing at it for a moment, she then grabbed the bow. Holding it with practiced ease she drew back the string with a determined look on her face. "Let's see if this thing still works," she said to herself. "Just remember Roth's training."

' _You can have the best form and technique in the world, but it won't mean a thing if you can't focus,"_ echoed Roth's words in her mind as she kept moving, searching, hunting for any sign of those deer she'd seen earlier.  _'The key to using any weapons is focus.'_ Getting up onto the house once more, she caught sight of one of the deer in the way. Lara began making her way across the outcroppings on the side of the mountain, stopping once she'd got to the lowest one. A few minute's patience awarded her with the sight of a pair of deer walking around, chewing at the leaves of small shrubs, oblivious to her presence.

Remembering both Roth's training and her time in the Sisters of Artemis, Lara knocked back an arrow and took aim. A moment later she let go, loosing an arrow that made it across the gap between them pretty easily before it buried itself in the skull of the deer. Lara made her way over to the deer, and noticed it was still dying, the arrow probably not having instantly killed it. "Sorry," she whispered, waiting for the deer to die.

With nothing else to begin the process of skinning it and cutting out some meet, Lara pulled out an arrow and looked it over, hesitating for several moments before she went about the process. Exhausted, and upset about having to do what she did, Lara began to make her way back to her camp. "Right, back to camp," she told herself.

Roth's words of wisdom about being able to navigate without a GPS came to her,  _'Alright Lara, you won't always have some fancy gadget to tell you where you are. If you can learn to read the land and the stars, you'll always be able to find your way home.'_  When she got back, Lara went about cooking the meat that she'd acquired. She remembered what Roth had taught her about cooking meat over a fire as well as what little exchanges she'd had with Jonah about cooking game and had made good use of it to do so. It was as she was waiting for the meet to cook that her radio came to life, "This is Conrad Roth, captain of the  _Endurance_. We are shipwrecked on an island  _inside_ the Dragon's Triangle."

Lara picked up the radio and hit the transmit button, "Roth!" She was overjoyed to hear his voice. She knew he was alive, thanks to Sasha, but actually hearing him was something else entirely.

"Lara! Are you okay? Did Major Beloi's marksman find you?" he asked, and Lara felt relieved. Sasha wasn't being disingenuous.

"Yes, he found me and patched me up. Shared some of his rations. But…not at first," she said, her emotions beginning to edge into her voice at this point.

"Easy, easy. What happened?" asked Roth, the concern in his evident as well. Throughout her life, ever since her parents, Roth had watched over her. Just as it pained her being this far from him and the others, she knew it was eating at him too.

"I remember the beach…then it went black and I woke up in a cave…There was this crazy man, Roth…and a dead body," she said, closing her eyes as the memories came back.

"Oh god…Where are you now, Lara? Where's Major Beloi's marksman?" asked Roth, concerned, but as usual was being more proactive about it. Lara hoped this was him getting ready to come get her.

"I…I'm still near the coast, Sasha told me to follow until I reach some ruins in the event that he didn't get back. He left in the morning to recover some of the survivors he was looking for. He said his major would be waiting with the others there," explained Lara, wincing when she realized that she'd used his first name instead of his rank and last name.

"So that's his name. Lara, he's right. Major Beloi is brining Reyes, Grim, Jonah, Alex and Whitman to my position after they pick up Sam. She's in the area too. If you make your way there, you can link up with them," said Roth, and suddenly what Sasha had said to her in the early hours of the morning made sense.

"Please just come get me," said Lara, in spite of hearing what he'd just said and knowing that he had to stay where he was.

"I can't Lara," he said immediately, pausing for a moment before he spoke again. "Remember when we climbed Snowden?" Lara's mind flashed back to the event, and she felt a wave of joy pass through her, it was a treasured memory of hers. "You said the key was knowing that all you've got to do is just keep moving." Lara said the latter part of the line with him. "Remember everything that I've taught you, Lara. You're ready for this. And keep your radio on."

"Okay," breathed Lara before she stood up, and clipped the radio back onto her belt. It seemed that there was only one option; keep moving.

Major Vasily Beloi,  _one hour earlier_

There had been backward and forward radio calls of local patrols moving through the area. Vasily knew this much. He knew it was only a matter of time before any  _one_ of them caught up with them. He told these people he was going to protect them. Sometimes it seemed like they were going to get themselves killed long before he could do anything to stop that. Whitman, for example, was constantly slowing them down. When he first came across them, he was almost sure it'd be the old man who slowed them, down, but sure enough, it was the college professor looking urod.

This had to be the fourth time the idiot had asked them to slow down. "Dr. Whitman, the objective was to reach captain Roth  _today_ , not accounting for the time it will take to divert to Ms. Nishimura's position?" His slight of Whitman was not lost on anyone, even Whitman. Reyes, Jonah and Alex all smiled.

Whitman scowled at him, "Major Beloi, need I remind you that not everyone is a soldier like yourself. However, I've been a part of  _several_ expeditions and this is  _hardly_ my first time in the field." Whitman went on chattering, but something in the near distance caught Vasily's attention. He could have sworn he'd seen grey against the browns and greens of the woods ahead of them. Vasily held his hand up, signaling for the others to stop moving.

Whitman however, continued helplessly blathering. "Shut up," hissed Vasily, hoping that the egotistical idiot would keep his mouth shut after missing the clear and obvious hint to keep his mouth shut. He flicked down his 1PN139 thermographic monitor. Sure enough, there they were. Five-man patrol. Who they were looking for was pretty obvious. Vasily motioned for everyone to get down, and Whitman only shut up and lowered himself down when Reyes forced him down.

Vasily caught sight of Reyes approaching in his peripheral vision. "What's wrong? Do you see something?" she asked, nodding at the area in front of them.

Vasily nodded, "Five-man patrol, we can probably let them pass, but I doubt that this will be the first time we run into them." Reyes frowned, as if trying to see them. "They're good, they know their way around this place," he added, part of him impressed, and the rest of him cursing them for their skill.

"What if you and I move ahead? Ambush them. If it's too much to handle, we can fall back and lead them into a trap," whispered Reyes. Vasily gave her a look, raising his eyebrows. He wasn't so sure she could keep up. "Don't be stupid, I'm not going to slow you down. Besides, who  _else_ would you suggest?" she asked. Vasily grunted. He had to give her that one.

"Fine," he conceded, letting his AS Val hang from it's sling, he pushed his SR1MP through the EFA-2K self-load holster. "Safety's off and there is a round in the chamber, only fire once I have fired, am I clear?"

Reyes took the weapon from him with a nod, "Crystal." Vasily nodded. Good. That meant that hopefully this had less of a chance of going terribly.

"Reyes and I will move ahead to ambush them, if somehow the urod are not all dead, then we will lead them back to this position, and it will be up to you to finish the job. You are to stay here and  _not_ move till them. Understand?" he said, going over the plan. He got nods from everyone, even Whitman. Motioning to Reyes to follow him, Vasily began moving closer toward the patrol.

Thankfully, Reyes mimicked what he did, moving with him. Thankfully for them both, Reyes stayed low. Lower than he did in fact, on account of not having a patrol pack to have to worry about. Vasily stopped at the edge of a clearing, watching the patrol come into the clearing. They had gotten lucky, or perhaps they'd just been quick enough, probably a combination of both. Vasily brought his AS Val up and took aim. Sighting down his She Shakhin Thermal Sights, currently operating on day operation mode, he settled the crosshairs on the lead man's torso.

He pulled the trigger, putting a single 9x39 round through the torso of the first man. Another man received two rounds in his torso as well, no doubt from Reyes. The five-man patrol began trying to move for any sort of cover whatsoever, only to find that they were stuck in this clearing when Vasily put down another man with a well-aimed two round burst to the chest.

At this range, even extremely quiet suppressed weapons like his were somewhat audible. One of the men turned in their general direction and let off a burst with the weapon in his hand, an ancient looking short barreled weapon that Vasily couldn't quite make out at the moment. His shooting was far from accurate, and as such it didn't even faze Vasily, and Reyes to her credit didn't lose her nerve either. Reyes was the one who put him down, this time with a round to the upper torso and the neck.

The last man turned to run. Vasily snapped up his rifle and sighted down the She Shakhin Medium optic, settling his crosshairs on the back of the man's head, he pulled the trigger. The SP-6 9x39 round took a chunk of the man's head off, and he fell face first onto the ground. "Not bad…not bad if you don't mind me saying so myself," said Vasily, turning from his well-executed shot to face Reyes.

Reyes scoffed, "Show off." But Vasily could see the slightest hint of a smile on her face. 'Small steps, Vasya. Small steps," he told himself. He'd get Reyes to be less brusque with him sooner or later.

Vasily slowly stepped out into the clearing after checking the immediate area with the aid of his thermographic monitor. "Admit it, we made a pretty decent team," said Vasily, a broad grin still on his face as he checked the bodies. None of them had anything particularly useful, most of them were carrying makeshift bows save for the man that had shot at them. He, however, was carrying what looked to Vasily like an old Japanese Type 100 submachine gun. How the hell had one of those ended up here?

He held up the old weapon to Reyes, letting his hang from it's sling, "Recognize one of these?" Reyes raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think so. It looks to me like an old Japanese Type 100 submachine gun."

"Old? You mean like World War II old?" asked Reyes, frowning as she looked at the weapon, the ageing wood furniture likely giving her an idea of just how old the weapon was.

Vasily nodded, "Da, that's exactly what I mean." He dropped the weapon and stood up to his feet. "What the hell is this island? World War II weapons, crazy islanders. What next, supernatural entities?" Sighing, he shook his head and then held out his hand, "My sidearm, please."

"Don't tempt this place, Major," scoffed Reyes, handing his weapon back to him, grip first. Holstering the weapon, Vasily began leading her back towards the others. "I'm not going to lie, I'll feel a  _lot_ better once we've picked those two girls up and are back at Roth's position." Vasily could empathize with that, he nodded.

Mercifully for his patience, the rest of the trip to Ms. Nishimura's position was free of Dr. Whitman's complaints. Of course, that didn't mean that he stayed quiet, "Look at those ruins, they're certainly-" Vasily instantly began tuning Whitman out. He had no intention of listening to the man's rambling. He'd been doing this ever since they came across the first sight of any ruins. Vasily wanted so badly to tell the man to shut up.

Reyes however, did it for him, "Whitman, shut up. I thought I heard something." Reyes was right, Vasily heard it too. Footsteps, multiple pairs and most certainly not human. Vasily recognized them instantly;  _wolves_. Thankfully, Whitman shut up with no further argument on the matter. Vasily brought his rifle up. This was not going to be good.

Unfortunately for them, the rain had picked up not too long ago. This made estimating where the attack was going to come from extremely difficult. Vasily snapped down his thermographic monitor. The rain was going to make things problematic given how long it had been falling, but a predator like a wolf was a lot hotter than a prey animal like a deer, it was going to be a lot easier to spot them. He flicked on the IR laser of his rifle, projecting a line that only he could see.

Tense moments followed as they stood back to back, the unarmed Whitman in the center. Thankfully, no one was stupid enough to make any real noise. He could hear rapid breathing, but that was all. "Call your shots, watch your sectors. Do not fire into someone else's firing line or I'll fucking shoot you myself. We will not get more than one chance." He knew that these weren't the deadly Siberian wolves that he and his unit had got their moniker from, but wolves were deadly pack hunters nonetheless.

Vasily got no complaints from anyone, they all stood waiting behind their guns for the predators. Then, the wolves attacked. The first one came out of the brush, stepping onto the path and charging them. It was a ruse if Vasily had ever seen one, but it was in his line of fire. "Mine!" he called, pulling the trigger and sending a pair of rounds into its head.

The next wolf ran out at Reyes, who promptly called her shot and put a pair of rounds into the offending wolf's head. Surprisingly good shots. Vasily was promptly impressed. Less impressed when Alex attempted to follow in her footsteps, though using two pistols as he was ended up putting four rounds into a wolf. "Conserve your ammunition! They're wolves, not your fucking mother-in-law!" he hissed. Alex winced, promptly chastised. He considered giving him a lecture on trying to dual wield pistols like some kind of fucking Hollywood action movie hero.

The next wolves came two at a time, into the old man and Jonah's sightlines. The two men did what Vasily expected them to, which was to use a shotgun competently. Safe for heavily armored targets at range, Vasily was yet to find a situation that could not be solved with appropriate application of 00 buck. In urban scenarios, he remembered the Saiga-12 to be a favorite of Natalya. To say that she would be proud of Jonah and Grim's shooting was praise enough. With five wolves dead, it didn't seem like any more wanted to test them.

Vasily was about to order them to move up when a pained scream pierced the air. "Alex, with me. Jonah, Grim, watch our back. Reyes, watch Whitman. Davai people, bystro!" Even though they didn't seem to speak any Russian, they snapped into action. Alex was behind him, while Reyes stood by Whitman and Jonah and Grim shucked the pump action of their shotguns and took up a rearguard position.

Pushing up ahead, his rifle shouldered, he saw a young woman with her foot caught in a trap. Not a bear trap, something for smaller predators, wolves likely given the number they'd just run into. Lucky for her, otherwise she was going to be looking at a badly broken leg. "Alex!" called the young woman.

"Lara!" called Alex back. "Guys, it's Lara! We've found Lara!" Finally, things clicked for Vasily. This was Lara Croft, one of the survivors who Sasha had helped. She was the one that he'd been told to wait for her. He almost let out a sigh of relief. That was one more person that he was not going to have to worry about now.

He could hear the others coming, and he considered waiting for Jonah to come by, but Vasily dismissed the idea and letting his weapon hang from his sling he walked over to the young woman. They'd received instruction on how to disarm traps just like this one during their time in Chechnya, the local insurgents had taken to using them, only they hadn't stopped and smaller traps like this. He'd seen men break their legs in larger bear traps. Well trained, seasoned men broke down from the pain.

"Miss Croft, it is so nice to finally meet you," said Vasily as he bent down to her level and got to work freeing her leg from the trap, he was certainly strong enough to do so. "Sasha has told me about you, I'm glad you were able to reach us."

"All good I hope," said Lara as he pulled down on either side of the trap, prompting her to pull her foot free with a grunt of pain.

"Konechno, of course," said Vasily, nodding. "You are braver than he gave you credit for, and more capable I think," he added, looking around at the wolf corpses around her. Lara smiled despite the situation.

"It's good to see you, Little Bird," said Jonah from behind him. The others clearly having caught up with them. Vasily began reaching for his medical kit, she was bleeding, and the trap was far from clean. Jonah reached down and pulled her up.

"I'm so glad you're here," said Lara as she managed to stand on her feet. "Is Sam with you?" Vasily began to worry. Last they had checked with Ms. Nishimura, she was with Ms. Croft. He knew he should have been worried when he saw her alone.

"She was with you," said Jonah, sounding just as perplexed as he was. Vasily was drawing up plans for a worst-case scenario where the locals had managed to capture Ms. Nishimura, and they had to get her back. He'd much rather attempt such a thing with more of his men. He still didn't trust most of the  _Endurance_ crew in a straight up fight.

"She was here…with that man, Mathias," said Lara, the way she said his name it was clear that it left a bad taste in her mouth. "But I passed out. When I woke up, they were both gone," she said, using her makeshift bow as support. It instantly became clear to Vasily that the trap had certainly done a number on her leg, even if it hadn't broken it.

"You girls shouldn't go wandering off!" said Grim, his words laced with a thick Scottish accent. Vasily was more than inclined to agree with him. It was going to make the task of keeping them alive a lot more difficult.

"We need to find them!" exclaimed Lara, barely able to stand even with the aid of her makeshift walking stick.

"What we need to do, is patch your leg up, Ms. Croft," said Vasily, having finally fished his medical kit out. "Once we do that, we can send someone with you to get you to captain Roth. The rest of us will search for Ms. Nishimura." Lara looked like she was about to argue but nodded and with Jonah's help hobbled back up to where there was some shelter from the pestilential rain. None of the others either seemed to argue with the plan.

"If it's all the same to the rest of you, I'll go with Lara," said Alex once he started working on cleaning Lara's wound. She winced but said nothing more. Vasily supported this choice. Alex could handle a weapon, and they wouldn't be losing much of the group's combat prowess if he went.

"I'll go!" said Whitman, causing all eyes to turn to him. "It's the least I could do," he managed to stammer out.

"Fine," said Reyes, handing him a Beretta 92 grip first, much to Vasily's chagrin. "You know how to use one of this?" Whitman was more likely to get them both killed than to get Ms. Croft anywhere. In fact, he trusted her with that makeshift longbow to get them there safely than he did her with a gun.

"It's all coming back to me," said Whitman, looking over the weapon like he'd never held one in his life. If anything, he'd just proved the  _exact_ opposite.

"Ms. Reyes, a word," he said, prompting her to turn her head, and then nod as she took a few steps away from the rest of the group. He turned to Jonah and then said, "Basic field dressing, finish it please." Jonah nodded, and took his place at Ms. Croft's feet. He walked over to Reyes and then said in a hushed tone, "You're sending  _Whitman_ with her? Chevo!? Why not Alex, he's a perfect fit."

"Because do you really want Whitman slowing us down when we're looking for Sam?  _Think_ , Major Beloi. You're the commando here, not me. I'm just a city cop well out of her league. Who knows what's happened to Sam, all I know is that we don't got time to waste. You want to babysit  _Whitman_ while we're trying to get on Sam's tail?"

Vasily sighed. Reyes had more than a few solid points. If anything, this was the best place to leave Whitman, where theoretically, he could cause the least problems. Even so, he had a bad feeling about this that came from deep within his gut, and he'd often learned that ignoring those feelings was wrong, but this island? This place had proven that logic nor reason had made any sense thus far. "Very well, Ms. Reyes, I will stand by your decision. However, just know that I've got a bad feeling about this."

Reyes scoffed and then nodded, "Yeah, you and me both, Major. You and me both."

Senior Lieutenant Sasha Voroboi

"Bystro, Natasha!" he called as he moved. Their Major had radioed in and told them that he'd sent Lara with a Dr. Whitman. His opinion of Dr. Whitman was less than glowing. That gave Sasha less confidence. What really caused his haste was when Pavel radioed in and told them about the patrols that they'd run into on their way back with the two Wagner Operatives Mikhail and Ivan. Natalya was fast, fast enough to be considered for the Spetsnaz prior to the reorganization into the Special Operations Forces, but Sasha was faster.

She didn't say anything, but if Sasha knew her well, and he did, he was sure that she was cussing him out with words that most veteran sailors would pale at. Sasha didn't quite know her exact location, but he knew the route that she and Whitman would have had to take. He'd found a parallel path, one that roughly follows what he told Lara to follow. He didn't know this for sure, but in the absence of more concrete proof and with time not being on their side, Sasha was just taking a chance.

Sasha was about to curse himself for not being able to find his way through this forest when he heard distant shouts, "Let go of her! Let go of her! Lara, run!" That was immediately followed by a gunshot. Sasha didn't need anymore indication that he needed to get there faster. Thankfully, he'd traded out his Rys-LD for his She Shakhin Heavy when it had become dark. As he got to the edge of the rise he was on, he dropped down and snapped up his rifle.

Even without the thermals to aid him, Sasha could see two figures running toward him. From the way they were running, they looked like they had their arms bound behind them. Prisoners, it looked like. They were being pursued by two men with bows. Sasha didn't need telling twice. The men were equipped exactly like how the 'Solarii' were. Snapping up his rifle, he took aim. Natalya dropped to a crouch next to him. "Sleva," he whispered, letting her know he had the one on the left.

Natalya nodded, saying nothing more. Sasha pulled the trigger, letting loose a single SP-6 9x39 armor piercing round that punched right through the man's chest, causing him to fall flat on his face. His comrade barely had the time to yell in surprise before Natalya put him down. "Prikroy menya," said Natalya, as she began to make her way down to the two prisoners. Sasha nodded and began looking around for any further contacts.

"I'm not going to hurt you," said Natalya, slowly approaching the two men. One of them recoiled back slightly, but the other one stood where he was. He could see Natalya turning so that they could see the Russian Flag on her uniform. "Russian Special Operations Forces, we're stuck on this island same as you. Your captain is waiting."

"What…what are you doing here? I mean, what's Russian Special Operations Forces doing here?" asked one of them. Both men had adrenaline pumping through their system no doubt, so he understood where they got their boldness from. He just hoped that didn't translate into stupidity.

"Doesn't matter," said Natalya. "Important part is that your captain knows we're here, and right now we just saved your ass. So how about a little bit of gratitude?" Sasha strongly agreed with her. In any case, they didn't have the time to argue with them.

"Believe us, or not, we're here to help you. If you don't want to believe us, fine. Just tell us if you saw Lara," said Sasha as he began making his way down the rise as well.

"Lara? How did you…" trailed off the man the other man, but then stopping himself. "Chris tried to make a distraction for her, but that Russian fucker blew his brains out. We'd be dead if it wasn't for you…just untie us, go find Lara, we'll be fine."

Sasha and Natalya exchanged glances, before he nodded at her. The both of them drew their Katran knives and cut both men free. "Thanks," said the man who'd been suspicious initially. "Owe you guys one." With that, both men were long gone.

Sasha turned off in the direction that the men had come from and began moving, his weapon up and shouldered. He probably should have informed captain Roth about this, but now was neither the time nor the place. The two of them came upon their first target, one of the Solarii was facing the other way, looking around with a flashlight. He was so focused on looking for survivors, he couldn't tell that he was being stalked.

Sasha let his rifle hang from its sling, drawing his Katran knife once more. Grabbing the man from behind, covering his mouth, Sasha jabbed the knife into the base of his neck and then drove it into his brain. The man died in his arms, and with Natalya covering him, he lowered the man's body. He knew the body could be discovered, but he wasn't planning on leaving any of them alive long enough for that to matter.

One of his fellows turned the corner and saw Sasha. Before Sasha could draw his handgun, Natalya put a pair of rounds through the man's chest. Sasha shouldered his rifle, pushing up methodically. "What do you mean you can't find her?" he heard someone say. "Keep searching, she's around here somewhere." Sasha knew who they were talking about.

Coming around a mostly collapsed wall, Sasha could see a man looking around with purpose. He was going to find that he wasn't going to find a defenseless young woman, but rather well trained and well-equipped commandos. The look on the man's face when he caught sight of Sasha in the low light was one of pure unadulterated fear. He knew he was dead. Sasha didn't want to disappoint, and so he put a single round through the man's head.

Eight rounds left. Not much. Better to reload than be left with no ammunition left in the magazine. Swapping magazines with a practiced ease, he waited. The man's flashlight had dropped out of view, and he knew that he was bound to investigate. "Hey, everything okay back there?" asked the other Solarii, who began walking over to investigate. The moment he rounded the corner, Natalya blew his brains out.

The two Spetsnaz moved up, only to come face to face with one of the Solarii. "FUCK!" was all he had time to let out before he received two rounds, courtesy of both Natalya and Sasha. This brought another Solarii running, who got a bullet to the chest for his troubles. Sasha and Natalya exchanged glances. They both knew that there was a high chance that they'd been discovered. Keeping their weapons shouldered, they hastened their pace.

The two kept moving as they came to a stone stair case, and this time it was Natalya's turn to neutralize the sentry at the bottom. It was unfortunate bad luck however that the lack of his flashlight beam was noticed. "Hey, where's brother Mathis? Wasn't he supposed to be watching our back?" he heard one of the Solarii saying.

"Shit, I don't see his flashlight either," responded the man he was talking to. "Better check it out," he said, as he began walking down the stone stair case. The man got a good look at the two commandos waiting for him at the bottom before he ceased to be able to look at anything anymore.

Natalya and Sasha were already on their way up when they heard the other man speak, "Brother Allan? Shit, we've definitely got company…" Before he could raise the alarm properly, Sasha neutralized him with a two rounds burst, even as he tried to knock back an arrow when he caught a glimpse of Sasha.

Voices in the near distance told the two that they were close, "The woman has to be here somewhere…keep looking!" This was followed by a, "Check the ruins here!" Sasha pushed up as fast as he could, perhaps a little recklessly. He knew that her time was running out, and he didn't know how he'd feel if he wasn't able to get there in time. Why in pizdec had he made that stupid promise?

Sasha swore that he heard Russian being spoken in the distance, "Get out, you are wasting my time." Sasha hastens his pace even more, and before Natalya can warn him, an arrow smacks into his chest plate as he rounds the top of the stair case.

"Stay back, outsider! Next one goes into your head!" threatens the Solarii who shot him, trying to knock back another arrow. That was the man's first and last mistake, because he never manages to raise his bow again. Sasha puts two rounds into him before he's forced to drop back behind the ruins of a stone wall as automatic gunfire smacks into it all around him.

"What were you thinking?" chastised Natalya, dropping down into a crouch next to him. "Chevo blyat!? You think you are some action hero coming to save the day? Think with your head, mudak." Natalya was one of his closest friends in the unit and hearing her let loose on him really snapped him out of it.

"That I was an urod, and made a promise that I could not keep," replied Sasha, poking his gun over the top and letting off a few rounds in the direction of the gunfire. No screams, but it made whoever was shooting pause. Natalya popped her head up and put two rounds into what he presumed was the urod shooting at them. A ricochet pinged off of her helmet.

"Go keep your promise, mudak," she said. It was impossible to tell if she was smiling or not, but her tone was friendly. If Sasha knew his friend well, and he did, then he knew that there was a grin on her face. Sasha turned and began making his way forward. Sasha heard a gunshot going off, and then began sprinting.

Sasha heard sobbing, heaved sobbing. He recognized the voice instantly. He saw Lara sitting on the ground, an empty Beretta 92 in her hand. A short distance from her, was a dead man. He looked like the other Solarii. Based on what he could glean from the situation, Lara must have shot him. Sasha jogged over to her and dropped to a crouch behind her, "Lara, it's Sasha. Are you okay?" She didn't look okay. Her arms were covered with dirt and scratches. He was dearly hoping that the wound he'd stitched up hadn't opened up.

Lara turned, and it took her a moment to recognize him. "Sasha?" she asked, looking at him for a moment. "No. Oh god, it was horrible…I had to kill him…He was trying to…" Sasha didn't want her to complete that sentence. He knew just what she was going to say. He put a hand on her back to try and comfort her.

"I'm sorry, Lara, I should have been here…" said Sasha. "I'm going nowhere now, let's just get you to captain Roth."

"Sasha…It's like I said, you have a mission here that you need to accomplish," said Lara, in between sobs, recovering from what happened.

"I'm not leaving your side from now on, you understand? I'm getting you to captain Roth no matter what else happens," said Sasha. Lara nodded slowly.

"Doesn't look like you need me," said Natalya in fair English, her words laced thick with accent. Lara turned up at the source of the new voice.

"You're…you're a woman," she breathed, looking over at Natalya. Sash didn't have to be able to see Natalya's face to know that his friend was smiling.

"Da, Junior Lieutenant Natalya Abramovna, pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Croft," said Natalya, extending her hand to help Lara up. Lara took her hand and let the female operative help her up. "Sasha has told me how brave you've been," said Natalya, pulling down her balaclava so that Lara could see her face.

"All good I hope?" asked Lara, her voice still showing clear signs of distress, but she was doing her best to hide it. "Are you going to be joining us?"

"Nikak nyet. I'll be joining my commanding officer to help him search for your friend. Sasha will be able to help you, don't worry. Once we get your friend, we'll see about getting off this island," said Natalya, removing her magazine and checking it before slotting it back into the receiver. "Don't worry Ms. Croft, you are in very good hands. Sasha, udachi."

"Ty tozhe, chuvak," said Sasha as Natalya turned around, drawing her balaclava back up as she began to head off to catch up with Major Beloi and the others. He then turned to Lara, "Whatever happened, don't worry, I'm here now. I'll get you to captain Roth, and we'll get a little payback too, yes?"

"As Junior Lieutenant Abramovna said, Sasha, I'm in good hands. Now, let's go get to Roth," she said, standing to her feet and retrieving her quiver from the dead body. Sasha didn't know what happened to her, but whatever she had to do, Lara had changed. Whatever had happened, had brought out her survivor instinct. Now this, he could work with, even if he felt sorry for that fact that she had to go through hell for it to happen. Not anymore, now, he was going to watch out for her. Anything that dared intend to harm her was never going to live to regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Chapter two. I'd posted the previous two on Fanfic, so I'm not superhuman I didn't manage to write this in the time between I've posted these two, though I would dearly love to be able to. Still looking for a beta reader. As always, till the next time...


	3. Getting Back Up

Captain Viktor Zaitsev, the previous day

Viktor had wanted to leave the wreck behind more than four hours ago, but given what had transpired, they were forced to hunker down in the wreck of the Antonov An-26. Captain Subotin and his men were doing their part, taking watch with the rest of them. Thankfully, they’d managed to get the long-ranged radio on the plane working again. None of them had been able to retrieve the supply drop with the long-ranged communications gear secured just yet.

Staring out the cracked side window as he sipped his coffee from his mess cup, Viktor wondered how they’d managed to get themselves into this situation. Captain Subotin was on the remnants of the flight deck, trying to the raise the Americans. It was past their time for a check-in, and the last thing he needed was for the Americans to send aircraft here too. If the same thing happened to them, then this situation was going to go from bad to international incident.

There was no explaining what had happened to them. There was no point in lying or trying to cover anything up either. Even so, the truth was going to be a hard pill to swallow. Viktor downed the last of his coffee in a single swig, out of frustration rather than any other reason. Where was Vasya when he needed him. Vasya was the unit’s face, dealing with problems they couldn’t or would have preferred not to have to shoot their way out of. Artyom was also remarkably good at doing the same, only he very much doubted the Americans would give Artyom much credence, given that he was only a lieutenant.

He placed the mug down on one of the empty crash seats being used to stow their gear and stepped onto the flight deck through the open door, crossing the distance in a few long steps, eager to get this over and done with. “This is Kuritsy to Retriever, are you receiving, over?” Their aircraft was supposed to return to Vladivostok yesterday, for them to be calling indicated to the Americans immediately that something had gone wrong. It was for that reason that they were probably not responding yet, they were likely checking and rechecking their own information.

Subotin looked up at him with a tired expression on his face, he sighed and then tried again. “Kuritsy to Retriever, are you receiving, over?” Subotin was about to give up when he the radio came to life, the grim and defeated expression on his face changing to one of elation.

“Kuritsy this is Retriever, we are receiving you four by three. There’s noticeable interference on the line. You were due for a check-in over eight hours ago, over,” said the voice on the other end. From the tone, Viktor guessed that this was a radio operator, rather than the officer that they were supposed to contact.

“Meteorological data showed the local airspace as being clear, but when we arrived in local airspace our radar indicated significant inclement weather. We dropped off Major Beloi and his men, and we tried to turn back to Vladivostok. Storm force winds forced our aircraft down. The radio is running off emergency power, over,” answered Subotin, explaining what had happened to them. There was a perceptible pause before the Americans answered, perhaps finding it difficult to accept what they’d heard. They all were. Viktor had a feeling that he would never forget what happened here. But the aircraft’s black box and cockpit voice recorder would prove them right. Viktor wasn’t quite sure that he wanted to be prove right about the fact that ever since they’d arrived in the airspace above the island, nothing that had happened to them made any sense whatsoever.

“Kuritsy, is Major Beloi or Captain Zaitsyev near? My commanding officer would like to speak with them, over,” came the voice of the American radio operator through the speakers. Viktor resisted the urge to sigh. He had a bad feeling that he knew exactly how the conversation was going to follow.

“Major Beloi is currently unavailable at the moment, Captain Zaitsyev is standing next to me, over,” answered Subotin, handing him the headset, glad to be done with his part of the conversation. Taking his helmet off, Viktor put the headset on.

“This is Captain Zaitsyev, over,” he said in accented English. Viktor was bracing for an earful, and Subotin thankfully stood up from his seat so that he could take it. Nodding his thanks to Subotin, Viktor put his mess cup down on the table in front of him and braced himself mentally for what he was sure was to come.

“Captain Zaitsyev, this is Colonel Hinton over at MCAS Futenma. We’re the ones that are supposed to help the Navy boys get you and your citizens out and back to civilization. Now I understand that the situation has become more…complicated. I’m not going to lie, Captain, but this whole thing with your aircraft has got some people around here saying some not very nice things about you boys. So, if there was ever the time for complete honesty, Captain, it’s now.”

The American officer said exactly what Viktor had suspected was going to happen. He was just waiting for them to threaten to flatten this place with a cruise missile, and if he and his weren’t on the island, he would sure as hell have no problems with that. This place was a shithole, based not only on what he’d experienced thus far but also based on what he was hearing from the rest of the unit. “Colonel Hinton, I can personally vouch for Captain Subotin’s account of the situation. Implausible as it is, our black box and cockpit voice recorder will attest to this. Over.”

There was a long pause on the other end, then an audible sigh filtered through, “Captain, you best hope you secure that black box and cockpit voice recorder…otherwise I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how this whole thing is going to snowball out of control? What’s your current status, over?” Viktor appreciated the American for giving him a heads-up, but he wasn’t telling him something that he didn’t already know. Viktor knew that there were those in the American government who were looking for a reason to pin this as some kind of Russian attempt to infiltrate this close to an American military installation. 

“As of this moment, we have secured the crash site and tended to the crew. We have encountered hostile contact from what appear to be survivors of other crashes on the island. Reports indicate that they vary from being poorly to heavily armed. Our citizens have not been recovered as of yet, however, we intercepted an SOS signal from a vessel that identified itself as the _Endurance_. We have made contact with parts of the crew; however, recovery efforts have been delayed by bad weather and by resistance from the locals. Over.”

“Say again, Captain, it sounded like you just said that the island’s natives are survivors of previous crashes turned hostile, over,” responded Hinton, his voice belaying his incredulity. Viktor wanted to ask him whose first language was Russian, because he was sure that he’d been clear enough. He took a deep breath through his nose. He could empathize. He could scarcely believe what he’d seen himself, and he could scarcely believe the reports that had come in since. The results of Alyena’s interrogation of the one she’d managed to capture were _something else_. Viktor didn’t dare mention anything about how they’d seem to have formed some kind of cult, and what he was told had happened to most of the civilians they’d come to rescue, let alone what had happened to the Wagner PMC troops that had been contracted as security for the trip.

“Yes, Colonel, I did. Their ethnic makeup, knowledge of how to use modern firearms, attire and knowledge of the English language marks them as survivors. Relatively recent as well. Several of them attempted to ambush my men, as well as the survivors of the Endurance. We have treated them as hostile thus far. Over,” replied Viktor.

There was an audible sigh on the other end, “Understood, Captain. Listen, I appreciate the heads up about the storm, I’ll try and convince the Air Force to call off airborne Search and Rescue operations given the…unpredictable nature, of storms in the region. I’m not going to lie, son, you don’t have a lot of time to get your act together. I’ll stall for time between our next check-in, not because we’re best friends or nothin, but because I’d sure as hell expect you to have done the same in my position if it was my Marines and I on that there island. That, and I may be a traditionalist, but you boys ain’t communist no more. I don’t have no problems with you unlike a lot of folk around here. Good luck, Captain, sounds like you and yours need it. Hinton, out.”

Viktor took the headset off. He wanted to like Hinton, and he knew the American Colonel was doing his best to help him out, but he wasn’t so sure that they’d be able to get any real results by that time. Sighing, Viktor put his helmet back on and tried to raise the others, hoping that they had some good news for him, “Eto Zaitsyev1, status report.”

Lieutenant Pavel Morozov, earlier that day

When Pavel first arrived on this island, he like the others, weren’t expecting what they saw. The current situation that he, Artyom, Ivan and Mikhail found themselves in, that was more in line with what he expected. Bullets flying everywhere, and fire fights with crazy fanatic lokhi2. Anyone going on about sacrifices and govno3 like that couldn’t be sane, right? Pavel peeked around the edge of their cover, the ruins of what was probably a hut of some kind once. Near misses sent chips of material into his face, but not before he caught sight of their assailants.

Three men with what looked like makeshift ballistic shields led the advance. Behind them, he could see more of the armored gas mask wearing types that Sasha had reported encountering the previous day behind them. “Good news or bad news, gentlemen?” he asked as he poked his AS Val around the side and put a pair of discouraging rounds in the direction of the advancing Solarii.

“Good news,” said Artyom as he put two two-round bursts in the direction of the Solarii as well. Ivan added to Artyom’s fire, sending a trio of three round bursts. Pavel watched Ivan eject the magazine, check it, and the replace it with a spare magazine.

“Well, the good news is that there are only three of the shield wielding cyka4,” replied Pavel, unslinging his GM-94 grenade launcher. “Bad news is that I have another crazy idea.” He held his GM-94 slightly higher to emphasize the extent that his plan went to.

“I was expecting something like this at one point or another,” said Artyom, managing to sound defeated even over the sounds of gunfire embedding itself into the remnants of the hut they were taking cover behind. “Covering fire on three,” he said, turning to Mikhail and Ivan. Both Wagner men nodded in understanding, if they had an opinion on what they were about to do, neither of them said it. Pavel checked that a fragmentation round was loaded, and then waited for Artyom to finish his countdown. He knew he would have to get the round in under the shields to maximize effectiveness. Artyom’s last finger dropped and on cue, Pavel stood up.

Artyom put a pair of three round bursts into the two shield wielding Solarii from his right, they staggered backwards, the SP-6 armor piercing rounds punching through their makeshift shields at this range and hitting _something_ vital. Mikhail and Ivan followed his cue and unleashed a deadly burst from their AEK-971s. At this range, the weight of gunfire was too much for the Solarii, and they were forced to step back, creating a gap in their shield wall. Pavel took a step back and a moment to aim before he pulled the trigger.

On hearing the _whump_ as the grenade launcher discharged, all four of them hit the dirt. The detonation threw the Solarii off their feet. Pavel could hear their death screams, and he knew they were dead before their bodies came to rest. Pavel shucked the pump action of his launcher and poked his head over cover, just in case any of them had survived. “Chista5!” he called a moment later, once he’d noted that none of them were moving.

“Govno blyat6, that was a little bit more resistance than I was expecting,” said Artyom, ejecting his magazine and checking the number of rounds he had left. Apparently deciding that he didn’t have enough left to warrant continuing to use that magazine, he traded it out for a fresh magazine.

“They’re ramping up the pressure it seems,” replied Pavel, nodding as he flicked the safety on his GM-94 on before trading it out for his AS Val. He turned to Mikhail, “Is this the sort of resistance you faced?” Mikhail nodded, switching his rifle back to semi-auto with a practiced flick of his thumb. “Then we’d better get moving quick, eh tovarischi7?” Without waiting for the others to agree, Pavel set off in the direction of their camp.

It was an hour or two, some of the tensest hours of Pavel’s life. Every moment they waited for an ambush that didn’t come. To say that Ivan and Mikhail were low on ammunition was an understatement. With Ivan’s last magazine having been spent during their last firefight. He and Artyom weren’t exactly overburdened by ammunition either. They’d spent a quarter of their load during the assault and during their attempt to reach camp so far.

Ivan and Mikhail had been strong thus far, but their wounds were slowing them down. More than once, Artyom had to stop to re-dress a previous wound. They could ill-afford the delays, but it was either that, or force their two Wagner comrades to bleed out before they made it to camp. Eventually however, they managed to stagger into camp, both Pavel and Artyom dragging their bleeding Wager comrades with them. Their spare hands holding their AS Vals one handed.

Captain Zaitsyev and Captain Subotin were the first to run out and meet them. On seeing their rank bars, both Mikhail and Ivan tried to stand up salute, but presented to what was an understandably fatigue and trauma addled poor impression of a salute. He and Artyom delivered a far less sloppy version, “Pasha, podotchetnost8!”

“Artyom, podotchetnost!” said Artyom, huffing to a stop a foot behind him. Pavel could see that his long-time friend was certainly more than just a little fatigued by the day’s events. It had been a long day so far, and the events had taken their toll on them. The number of patrols that they’d run into on their way back and having to carry Mikhail and Ivan on the way back hadn’t been easy.

“Vol’no9!” said Captain Zaitsyev. “Lieutenant Chyornyj, take these men inside and patch them up. Lieutenant Morozov, make sure all four of you have some food in you. I’ll join you in a minute.”

To Pavel, those were the best orders he’d gotten all day, “Tak tochna10, tovarisch11 Kapitan!” He then turned toward Artyom and nodded toward the wrecked fuselage of the aircraft, limping away in its direction. All four of them nearly collapsed onto the deck of the aircraft, he and Artyom only allowing themselves to sit down once they’d made Mikhail and Ivan comfortable.

“So D’Artagnan, one more day, eh?” he asked as he undid the catch on his helmet and tossed it onto the nearest seat, then reaching down and pulling off his balaclava. The ‘one more day’ tradition had started when they were in the VDV during their first deployment, when their unit had come under heavy fire from Georgian mortar positions.

“One more day,” agreed Artyom, nodding slowly before he ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, his balaclava on his lap. The both of them took a few moments to catch their breath, saying nothing as they stared at the walls, almost as if trying to pick out some unseen detail.

Senior Lieutenant Sasha Voroboi

The fires they’d seen in the distance earlier were raging a lot fiercer now, the old buildings in the village providing adequate fuel for the blaze. Amidst the flames, like a scene straight out of hell, the Solarii chased down remnants of the Endurance’s crew. Sasha had to resist the urge to try to come to the aid of the fleeing crew. Whether he liked it or not, ammunition was not an expendable resource. Especially since he had no idea if the Solarii numbers would feel the effects of his direct intervention here, not to mention that Lara was also going to draw some of the fire directed at him.

He had a responsibility to get her out of here, he couldn’t act on the off chance that he’d save a few crew members by getting into a fire fight with the Solarii below. He’d been tempted to toss one of his two RGN fragmentation grenades, but they were very much a limited resource. He glanced back to check for pursuers and to ensure that Lara was still right behind him, and satisfied that both cases were met, Sasha returned his attention to the path ahead, lit by the fires below and around.

He paused at an overturned secure container, whatever was inside it at one point had been looted by the Solarii. Letting out a short sigh in disappointment, Sasha was about to move on when he caught a glint with his experienced eyes and rubbing away a few layers of mud to reveal a magazine loaded with 9x19 parabellum rounds. He could recognize them by sight. He could tell if they’d fit in Lara’s Beretta 92, but he held them out to her, continuing to keep an eye on what lay ahead. “Check if this fits,” he said softly, waiting for her to take the magazine from his hand, his rifle’s barrel resting in the crook of the same arm as he stayed crouched.

He heard the satisfying _click_ of a magazine sliding home, and then the sound of a slide being racked. Sasha’s doubts about Lara’s ability to use the pistol she’d appropriated had been assuaged. If they were lucky, then she wasn’t going to have to put them to use. Sasha wasn’t sure that their luck was going to hold on for very long.

Sasha kept their pace slow and steady, he only stopped when he saw a precarious rope bridge up ahead. It looked stable enough to take them, but he wasn’t so sure about it taking them both at the same time. Worse, he could hear the Solarii below them and with the fires underneath them, there was nothing to hide their silhouette. They’d be like puppets at a shadow theatre. That was when he heard what sounded like one of the crew. He sounded like he was struggling with his captors. Sasha shouldered his rifle and looked down the sight, and a few moments later he found two Solarii dragging away a restrained young man. His clothes were covered in ash and torn in places. A third Solarii member watched. Sasha’s finger tightened around the trigger.

“Oh god, that’s Charlie…” whispered Lara from behind him. Lara watched with morbid fascination, though admittedly unable to see as much as he could with the She Shakhin’s magnification. “What are they going to do with him?” she asked with abject horror apparent in her voice. Sasha didn’t even want to think about that.

“Nothing,” whispered Sasha back, drawing a bead on the observer’s head. Inhale. Fire. Exhale. The round discharged with barely an audible hollow sounding _cough_. The two others both let go of the boy and immediately began looking around for where the shot could have possibly come from. Sasha didn’t give them the chance. Two more shots, and two more bodies hit the ground. The now free crewmember looked around, and then deciding not to push his luck began searching his former captors’ corpses for bladed weapons with which to free himself.

Sasha let out a sigh. It was the right thing to do. That was another magazine with eight rounds left. He’d have to consolidate magazines later. Lara must have noticed the slight change in his posture and put a hand on his arm protection. “It was the right thing to do, Sasha. Come on, hopefully we won’t need to expend much more ammunition before we get to Roth.” Sasha nodded, even if he had strong convictions that it wouldn’t prove to be the case.

Taking lead once more, Sasha stayed low, in the event that there were any other Solarii in the area with a decent view of the bridge. Stepping onto it, he motioned for Lara to stop, and only once he was convinced that it was going to hold his weight did he continue until he was across it. He dropped to a crouch, surveying the area ahead and around for any sign of hostiles, only waving Lara across when he was sure that there were none.

The path ahead was inlaid with stones and appeared to be cut into the hillside. Sasha slung his rifle, drawing his pistol by pushing it through his self-load holster, chambering a single 9x21 UCh armor-piercing round and disengaging the weapon’s safety.  He saw what looked to be another member of the _Endurance_ ’s surviving crew, only this man was pointing a weapon at unseen assailants. “Stay back, I’ll shoot!” he heard the man warn his would be assailants. Sasha knew then, that he was dead.

He heard a voice exhorting what he assumed to be his comrade to ‘take him out’, and Sasha immediately raised his left hand to signal Lara to stop. Sasha watched as one of the Solarii bent down and relieved the man of his weapon, and then search the body for spare magazines. Sasha smiled, and bringing his weapon up he took aim once more. Inhale. Fire. Fire. Exhale.

Sasha knew that one round must have severed the man’s spinal cord as he watched the man’s body go limp instantly after the round had hit him. Sasha heard the surprised call of another Solarii. Sasha had to give the man credit, he didn’t step out into view. Instead he poked his head out. Sasha knew that there was no point in hiding when the man turned his head in their direction, and his eyes widened. Sasha snapped his weapon up and took an opportunistic shot that landed a mere scant inch away from the man’s face.

“SHIT! They’re here! The fucking paratrooper’s here! Send help!” Sasha heard the man screaming. He sighed. This was going to be a problem. At least these lokhi didn’t have radios, then they’d be in _real_ trouble.

“Stay close, watch our backs,” said Sasha quickly, glancing only for a moment to look at Lara. She nodded. That was good enough for him. He increased their pace, keeping to the side so that they’d get a better shot at anyone coming at them from ahead. The pathway led into a courtyard of sorts, but Sasha knew that trouble was waiting for them in the courtyard. Stepping out was asking for trouble, he was going to have to move fast. He turned to Lara, hoping she’d understand what he meant, “I’m moving, cover me.”

With that, Sasha executed an almost perfect combat roll in full gear, and as he brought his weapon up he heard Lara’s pistol discharge. The Solarii in front of him had a rapidly expanding blotch of blood on his chest, the center of which was a ragged hole. “Nice shot,” said Sasha, standing to his feet and immediately checking the area. Lara couldn’t see it, but there was a broad grin plastered on his face.

Lara smiled, “Well, unlike Whitman, I’m not totally useless with a gun.” Sasha raised an eyebrow at that. There was a story there for sure. No time for that now, so he just nodded.

What drew his attention was the sound of approaching footsteps, and someone immediately exclaiming, “There they are!” Sasha turned in the direction of the voice and saw two Solarii to their right, one with an arrow knocked back. He immediately put himself between Lara and the Solarii, and the next thing he felt was a sharp pain in his left arm, just below the shoulder protector.

“Govno blyat!” he spat through gritted teeth. Bringing his weapon up, forcing the other arm to work despite the pain, he snapped off two shots in the direction of the other Solarii who’d just knocked back an arrow. Lara followed his lead, and competently put a pair of shots into the man whose shot had grazed his arm.

He followed Lara’s gaze from the two dead men to him, “Sasha, are you alright!?” Her voice was filled with concern, and her face showed it as well.

Sasha grimaced, and then scoffed. He could feel warm blood trickling down his arm, but the gash in his leaf suit and uniform wasn’t that deep, both had absorbed much of the impact and had dulled the impact of the broadhead on his arm to a large degree. “I’m fine,” he said without hesitation. “Only thing wounded is my pride.” Lara continued to look concerned at him, but he waved her off. “Come on, that hut looks promising.”

They walked over to the hut and Lara got to opening the door while he kept her covered. Lara managed it fine with hand axe like implement that he hadn’t noticed on her till now. She must have acquired it since their last meeting, and apparently, she seemed quite capable with it as well. “I’ve got it,” he heard Lara say, and with one last look around, Sasha followed Lara into the hut.

Lara was looking around, but the only thing that Sasha’s eyes found that were of importance to him were wooden boards barring what looked to him like the only way out. Without another moment’s hesitation, Sasha gave it a vicious kick, followed by another, and managed to dislodge and break the planks. “I’ll go first, make sure it’s clear,” he said, sitting down in front of the cutout in the wall. It was a tight fit, but he managed to pull himself through.

Sasha found himself standing on a wooden platform of sorts built onto the edge of the mountain. He then realized that this platform was part of a path of sorts, only the part ahead of him had fallen away. “Clear,” he called back into the hut, and a moment later, Lara was on the platform with him.

Lara inhaled deeply, looking at the gap. She then turned to him, “It’s not a _long_ jump, Sasha. We could make it for sure.” Sasha turned and looked at her, unsure of how she was so calm about this.

“You’re right, it doesn’t look too bad, but how are you so calm about making a jump like that?” asked Sasha as he holstered his pistol. He hadn’t seen any Solarii in the immediate area after all.

“Well, I was on the gymnastics team, but really I’m actually more than a little worried right now,” said Lara, looking at the jump she had to make, and then taking a few steps back. “It’s the only way through without waiting for those fires to die down, what choice do we have?”

“Good point,” said Sasha, nodding. Lara it seemed, was quite capable of steeling herself for what needed to be done. Sasha was silently impressed. In the short time he’d left her, she’d managed to come quite far. That girl was a survivor for sure. That much he knew now. He then watched with bated breath as Lara sprinted and then leapt off the edge of the platform, landing on the separated section of pathway. Only on seeing her safe on the other side was Sasha able to breathe again.

“See?” she asked, turning to face him. “It’s not so bad.” There was a broad grin on her face, the kind that only formed on one’s face when adrenaline was pumping. Sasha took a breath, and then taking a few steps back, began sprinting for all he was worth. Putting everything he had into the jump, Sasha caught a glimpse of what was going to happen to him if he failed to make the jump. He landed on somewhat unsteady feet. Lara grabbed a hold of his right forearm to steady him. “Not bad Sasha, my old instructor would have chewed you out for technique though.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not wearing all this gear on her. So, she can idi nahui 12,” he said, immediately drawing his pistol and snapping it up. Lara chuckled at this, probably having inferred the meaning. Sasha smiled too, and for a moment they locked eyes. He then looked away awkwardly, “Davai13, let’s keep moving, yes?” Lara nodded, and Sasha led the way, pushing up to what looked like a wooden wall. It was sheer, there was no way that anyone could really climb it without using something to help them get up there.

“I don’t fancy my chances of pulling you up, Sasha,” said Lara, looking at what was in front of them. Sasha nodded. “I can boost you up, but don’t expect to stand on my shoulders or anything.” Lara gave him a raised eyebrows look.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he laughed. “I’m skeptical of trying to put my weight on your hand as well, but we don’t really have too many other options, do we?” Without a further exchanged word, she got down and made ready to boost him up. Sasha was very careful to put as little weight on Lara as was possible. With a grunt of pain, Lara managed to give him enough of a boost to get up to the top. Sasha quickly pulled himself up and cursed himself for not remembering the wound in her side. ‘And you were the one who stitched her up, blyat!’ he cursed at himself.

Sasha immediately checked the area for any sign of the Solarii, but not seeing any, got down and lowered his hand so he could pull Lara up. Lara jumped up and caught his hand. “I’ve got you,” he said. Sasha held on for all he was worth, and slowly began to pull her up. Lara was by no means heavy, and so this was a relatively easy task.

“Thanks,” said Lara as she clambered over. She made to dust herself off but then stopped herself. “God, I’ll be so glad for a nice long shower.” Sasha laughed, he understood how she felt. He reminded himself that he was still going to have to clean and dress the new wounds she had on her arms.

“You know, I saw quite a few streams around here, you could always jump in one of them,” he said in jest, smiling cheekily under his balaclava.

“And die of hypothermia? No thank you,” said Lara with faux politeness. Sasha laughed, and Lara rolled her eyes as she retrieved her bow, a single arrow in her hands. Lara took a cue from him and decided that perhaps moving quietly was the best way forward. The wooden pathway they were walking on looked like it had fallen away ahead, and Sasha cursed the Solarii for being so bullheadedly stupid and burning everything in sight.

“Only way looks like it’s up, that support column over there looks reachable,” said Lara, looking intently at a support column for a platform, probably part of the original pathway through this settlement. “I think I can reach it.”

Sasha immediately put his hand on her shoulder, “I think we’ve both done enough suicidal jumps for one day, haven’t we?” Lara gave him a look that he knew quite well. It was the ‘fine, what’s your idea’ look. He’d gotten quite used to it from Alyena. Sasha opened his patrol pack and retrieved a coil of rope, at the end of which a grappling hook was attached. It was one of the less talked about parts of special forces units. As a sniper, he found it made gaining access to a vantage point significantly easier.

“Well that certainly makes things easier,” said Lara in an example of classic British understatement. Sasha shook his head and made ready to throw the line as he was trained to do. Judging the distance and the force needed to get the grapple hook to get into a secure position. A moment later, he hurled the grapple and watched as it secured itself onto the horizontal support bar he’d been aiming for.

Giving the line a strong tug to see if it was secure, he held the line out to Lara, “Ladies first.” Once he was up, he’d remove the grapple so that they could use it again. Somehow, he had the feeling that they were very much going to need this again.

“Such a gentleman,” said Lara as she took hold of the line and began climbing. Sasha waited till she was up before he began climbing. Sasha’s urban assault training instantly came back to him, and he climbed the rope with grace of someone who’d not only been trained well but had to put it to use more than they could remember. Once he was up, he disengaged the grapple, holding one-handed onto the support beam with no small amount of effort. With a reasonable degree of difficulty, he managed to gather up the rope.

“Let’s see what he’s got…” Sasha heard a voice from above saying. He motioned for Lara to start moving across the beam. With a nod, she did as he said.

“Wallet, dead phone…” said another man from on top. Sasha kept pace with Lara easily, his upper body strength a requirement of his job and the program that deemed him worthy of his place on this team. Lara however, it was safe to say that Sasha was slowly getting more and more impressed with just how much Lara could do.

“It’s always the same shit…” complained the other man. ‘Don’t worry, cyka, I’m about to make your day plenty interesting,’ thought Sasha as he moved along. He urged Lara up, and she carefully and more importantly, quietly climbed up the support beams. Sasha was right behind her. As they got to the top, Sasha saw both the Solarii, facing away from them. He quickly motioned for Lara to move up behind one of the two crates that were the Solarii and them. He pulled himself up and over and took aim at one of the Solarii. Lara had an arrow knocked back already. Sasha was prepared to kill both men and wasn’t expecting her to help. In fact, the less she had to do this, the better for her. He wasn’t going to bring this up with her, not _now_.

He held up one hand and began counting down from three. The second his hand closed into a fist, Lara let loose an arrow that embedded itself into the head of the man on his right. Sasha returned his hand to his pistol and ensuring that he still had a shot lined up, pulled the trigger and sent a single 9x21mm round through the man’s head. Both men dropped with scarcely a noise. Before he could say anything else on the matter, he heard and saw a rope ladder being dropped down the side. “Hey, what’s going on down there?” asked a voice, one that Sasha presumed belonged to the Solarii now rapidly making his way down the ladder. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sasha put a pair of rounds into his back. The man fell from the ladder and even if he didn’t die by Sasha’s bullets, the fall had surely killed him.

“I had meant to ask where you got the bow, but I think I saw where you got it on my way to you when we first met. Please tell me you didn’t open your stitches trying to get it,” he said, checking the closest Solarii for anything that might be useful. Sasha’s eyes then fell on the body that they were searching. In the low light, he was almost convinced that the corpse looked a little familiar. Then he saw the wallet sticking out of the pocket of the Solarii he was searching. Opening the wallet, Sasha was immediately met with a driver’s license in a clear section.

On seeing the license, Sasha remembered where he’d seen this man. This was one of the men they’d run into when they first came across the village, the two men who were being pursued by Solarii, the one’s they’d freed. Sasha felt a pang of regret that he hadn’t taken them along with them, but he could afford to do nothing more.

Lara stood up from taking arrows out of the two men’s quivers. “It’s the one and the same, Sasha. Though it could do with some tender love and care.”

Sasha nodded slowly, and then wondering where she’d learned archery, asked, “So did you receive training? Or are you self-taught?” He was almost sure that she’d received formal instruction of some kind. She had a style that he’d seen in some Olympic archers. “And shooting, who taught you to shoot?” The Lara he’d left behind had been largely unarmed, and terrified. Now, he didn’t quite know what to think.

“Roth taught me to shoot,” said Lara, taking an arrow from the quiver. “But I did learn both archery and shooting in school. I picked up Archery in college again, joined an archery club called the Sisters of Artemis.” Sasha was genuinely impressed.

“Damn, well, you are certainly more productive than I was at the academy,” he said, giving her an impressed nod.

“Well, can’t have been all that unproductive. You’re a special forces soldier now, aren’t you?” she asked, giving him an encouraging smile that he didn’t know she had in her, but was very much pleasantly surprised by.

“You’re full of surprises, Lara Croft,” said Sasha, a broad grin having formed on his face. Lara smiled, ever the slightest hint of a blush on her face.

It was about then that Lara’s radio went off, “Lara, are you there?” asked the voice on the other end, belonging to who Sasha assumed was Captain Conrad Roth, basing this on what he’d heard about the man from Major Beloi.

“Yes!” answered Lara emphatically, moving up toward the rope ladder up against the rockface. Sasha joined her and motioned for her to stop. They might as well finish off the conversation with Roth before they climbed the ladder.

“Are you okay?” asked Roth, the concern in his voice evident. It was almost paternal concern that Sasha could have sworn he heard.

“Sasha’s with me now, but it’s horrible, Roth. They’re killing people!” said Lara. Sasha was relieved for that, if he wasn’t with her, he couldn’t imagine how she was going to get through this on her own, despite her apparent skills. It was still a tall order given what he knew about the life she’d lived so far, and the fact that this was the first time she’d had to take a life.

“Be careful, Lara, I don’t think I need to tell you that there are some real unsavory types on this island. Are you alright, did any of them hurt you? It’s good to hear that Lieutenant Voroboi managed to reach you, I can breathe a little easier now,” replied Roth. Sasha could actually hear the relief in his voice. He assumed Major Beloi was the one who’d told Roth his rank and name. He didn’t mind either ways.

Lara seemed to hesitate for a moment before she answered, which worried Sasha more than perhaps it should have. “No. I had to kill one of them before he reached me though, and a few after.”

There was a pause before Roth spoke again, “That can’t have been easy.” Roth was mirroring just what he was thinking but hadn’t brought up just yet.

“It’s scary just how easy it was,” said Lara after another moment’s thought. Sasha knew what she was talking about, that fight or flight instinct. It seemed he’d surmised correctly earlier, Lara did indeed have the right sort of instincts. Instincts alone were not enough, and skilled as she was, he still worried about her. Even with him by her side, he worried. He couldn’t quite put a finger on the source of this concern.

Silence set in, and so Sasha motioned for the radio, and so Lara handed it to him. “Don’t worry, Captain. We’re making good pace already. I’ll make sure she gets to you just fine.”

“I’m sure that you will, Lieutenant,” said Roth. “Roth, out.” With that, the line went dead, and Sasha handed Lara’s radio back to her. He nodded at the rope ladder in front of them, “Ready to see where this leads?” Lara nodded. “I’ll go first, stay close,” he added, taking ahold of the ladder and beginning to make his way up.

They climbed in silence, not wanting to alert any potential additional sentries patrolling at the top. By the time Sasha climbed up, Lara was already readying her bow. Ahead of them was a stone stairway that lead further up the mountain. On their right was an old oriental style house. This place was _old_ , that was for sure. Sasha flicked down his thermal monocular to check for any sign of enemies up ahead, nothing at the moment. Choosing to leave it down, Sasha tentatively led the way forward.

Senior Lieutenant Alyena Davydova, same day, late afternoon scouting run

The late afternoon sun was at her back, perfect for someone like her. Even with a sun shade on her optic, the sun at her back meant that it was a lot harder to find someone like her. The Rys-LD was a godsend. Even if it didn’t have extremely high magnification, the magnification that it provided was more than adequate for a rifle like the Vintorez.

She had been watching this particular outpost for more than an hour now. She knew the patrol patterns and the positions of the guards like the back of her hand. Her orders had been to locate Solarii camps and prioritize which ones would be worth hitting. She’d come across smaller outposts on her way here, but this one seemed a little more important based on the number of guards. In fact, this was the first outpost that she’d come across that had a mounted gun turret.

She couldn’t quite make what machine gun was in use, but based on what she was looking at, she estimated that it was analogous to the PKP Pecheneg carried by Captain Zaitsyev and Illya. Not a problem, their vests were rated to stop up to 7.62x54R armor piercing rounds at 5 yards. In any case, she’d personally congratulate the man who managed to sniff out an ambush they orchestrated before it hit. Naturally, such a congratulation would be a bullet to the head.

Alyena had been careful enough to place a pair of MON-50 anti-personal mines on the approach to her vantage point. She had no intention of dealing with some lucky Solarii who stumbled up her way. If for some reason some lucky podonok14 managed to slip passed the mines, she had a fragmentation grenade with their name on it. She had no intention of being taken alive, not by these lokhi, and not again. Memories of her time in Chechen captivity still plagued her, no matter who she saw and talked to about it. Talking just didn’t help.

Activity at the entrance to the camp caught her attention, and she slowly turned her rifle to see just what it was that was going on. She caught sight of what looked to be several of the up-armored Solarii, at least eight of them. Four of them were carrying AEK-971s, one was carrying a PKP Pecheneg, one an SVD. The other two were carrying what looked like a hastily repaired American M-14 and strangely enough a HK-416. They were surprisingly well armed compared to the other Solarii they’d seen on the island and were sure to be something of a slight problem for them.

What _really_ caught Alyena’s attention was the woman that two of them were dragging between them. Her clothes were torn, cuts and bruises adorned her arms and showed through the tears in her jeans. She had her hands tied behind her back, and her legs hobbled together. A filthy probably once white rag was tied around her eyes as a blindfold, and she’d been gagged with what Alyena instantly recognized as duct tape that had been wrapped around her mouth.

Alyena retrieved her tactical computer and checked through the images they’d been given of the civilians that they were to rescue. Alyena was instantly convinced that the woman that they were looking at was Anastasia Fedorova, one of the civilians who’d shipwrecked on the island. She snapped off a quick picture at maximum magnification and sent it to Captain Zaitsyev. It wasn’t the highest resolution picture, the variant issued to regular soldiers had a worse camera than the one issued to unit commanders and the video quality wasn’t the best either. It was being worked on, but for now they had to work with what they had.

“Kapitan Zaitsyev, eto Davydova. I’ve located one of the civilians. They were just brought into one of the camps I was reconnoitering, priyem20” said Alyena after keying her mic. Part of her did wonder why they were bringing her to this outpost as she waited for her captain’s response. Hadn’t the first madman she’d interrogated said that they sacrifice any women they come across? Why keep this one alive? Even if she should have been happy that they’d managed to find one of the civilians that they were looking for alive, something about all this reeked to Alyena of something _wrong_.

“Eto Zaitsyev, receiving your image now, good work. Priyem,” replied her Captain. “What’s your assessment of the outpost, priyem?”

“They have a mounted machine gun with what appears to be a high intensity lamp attached. It’s got enough traverse and depression to cover most of the outpost. Two guards patrol the central area of the camp. At least three guards patrol the two story structure at the far end of the outpost. There’s an interior area that I’ve not reconnoitered. The troops that brought our civilian in I believe are more of the elite troops that Sasha had reported earlier. There’s at least eight of them. As for the structures in this base, sir, the construction is definitely military. Too professional for these lokhi, but it’s old, and falling apart, priyem,” she reported. She took a breath and considered telling him what she thought about the situation, but decided she’d wait to hear what he had to say.

“Obshchepriznannyy15. I’m sending Illya, Tyoma and Pasha to help you. We shouldn’t take a chance on this one. Anything else, priyem?” he asked, with a tone of voice that implied that he knew she had something to say but wasn’t. He knew her well.

“Ser, the last man we interrogated told us that they sacrifice the women that they capture. Why is she alive? I mean, they may be crazy, but this just doesn’t make sense given what we know about them so far, sir. It could be a trap, priyem,” she replied, taking a deep breath both before and after speaking.

“Trap or not, we need to recover as many of our people alive as possible. With any luck, she’ll lead us to other survivors. That’s why I’m sending you that much support. I have full confidence in the four of you. Konets svyazi22.” Alyena sighed. Her captain was right. They had a job to do here, a duty to get that woman and any of the others still alive off this island alive. She glanced at the woman and felt a pang of empathy. One thing was sure; she didn’t want to be Anastasia Fedorova right now.

Senior Lieutenant Sasha Voroboi

Gunfire. It wasn’t the Solarii, it was Lara. She was firing back at the Solarii firing arrows at them. Only problem was there were a few too many Solarii in the area for his taste they were outnumbered six to one. This dilapidated building was practically crawling with them.

“How much longer, Sasha, I’m almost out,” asked Lara, crouching down behind the crate that they were taking cover behind. Sasha in the meanwhile was setting up a MON-50 mine with an MVE-72 electric break wire.

“It’s done,” he said, arming the mine and then drawing his SR1MP and preparing to move. He turned behind him, catching another glimpse of the opening and the rope line secured above it’s frame. “Move on my mark,” he breathed.

Lara didn’t argue, she nodded and grasped her borrowed Berreta 92 tighter. Sasha took a deep breath and then without warning, he stood up and let a pair of hastily aimed shots off. Lara took this as her cue to run and does so, firing off a hastily aimed shot of her own at the six Solarii still in pursuit. Neither of their shots felled any of their pursuers.

Lara made it to the rope and called for him to follow after she braced her improvised climbing axe against it, “Sasha, come on!” Sasha let off a pair of shots at an overzealous Solarii who was shouting obscenities at him. He wouldn’t be doing much of anything anymore, let alone shouting.

Sasha began backing up to join her, putting down a Solarii that was trying to let loose an arrow at him. About then, Sasha felt a sharp pain arc up his forearm, and felt something else impact and ricochet off of his helmet. Sasha roared from the pain, his next shot completely off target. He heard Lara call his name.

“Just fucking die!” he cursed at the Solarii in English, firing at them one-handed with his pistol. The arrow had opened up the forearm portion of his uniform and had cut a nasty laceration in the same area. It hurt like hell, and it was going to need stitches for sure, but the pain would fade given time and aided by painkillers.

Lara’s shooting from behind him caught two of the Solarii by surprise. “Sasha, move!” she barked. Sasha took the opportunity to make a run for the rope. Lara took the rope, easily holding onto her axe as though it were made for the task. Taking a quick moment to holster his pistol, Sasha used his grappling hook, now secured to his vest after they got into this particular structure. The sudden jerk as he dropped caused more pain to arc up his wounded arm.

An explosion from behind him alerted to the fact that the mine had gone off. The Solarii wouldn’t be a problem for now. It wouldn’t be long before more came this way. He managed to let go of the grappling hook and landed with it in his left hand. By now he could feel warm blood flowing down his forearm and from the cut in his upper arm, faster than he’d like it to be. Lara turned around and the sight of him caused a concerned expression to form on her face, “You’re bleeding, badly…”

“It’s fine,” Sasha lied, waving her off. “I’ll patch it up when we reach Captain Roth.”

Lara continued to fix him with a concerned look but seemed temporarily mollified by his response. She nodded slowly before giving him one last, but brief look of concern, “Okay, but no later. Alright?” She didn’t look entirely convinced by the nod that followed, and so she added, “Promise me.”

“Alright, I promise,” replied Sasha, admonished, holding his uninjured hand up. He then took a breath and looked up at the sheer rockface in front of them. “Are you up for some freeclimbing?”

Lara turned to regard it as well before she sighed as well, “No. But we don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Sasha’s silence was her answer. “Didn’t think so. Come one. The sooner we find Roth, the better.”

Lara’s abilities never ceased to impress. Sasha decided this as he climbed up the rock face with her. The gap that they were climbing up was a very right fit for him. He wasn’t a large man. Tall, yes, but not large. His armor and other gear didn’t make him much larger. Even so, Lara was considerably smaller than he was. As far as he could tell, even she wasn’t exactly having the easiest of times. He barely managed to move his head out of the way when Lara knocked a rock loose. “Hey, I’m still down here, be careful!” he exclaimed.

“Sorry, Sasha,” called Lara from above, pausing for a moment to look down at him and give him a sheepish expression. “It’s not much further, don’t worry.”

At that moment, the rain started to fall again. Sasha had a think-lipped smile on his face. “Khorosho blyat24…” he breathed, electing to continue climbing in silence. Lara was waiting for him at the top, in the cave where their climb ended. Sasha saw wooden supports, meaning someone had intended for this to be used as a regular method of getting up and down. Not the worst idea if the gap wasn’t so damned narrow!

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” said Lara, a slight smile having formed on her face. Sasha returned it, even though she couldn’t see it, and was about to respond when the sound of gunfire in the near distance made both of them snap their heads in that direction.

Sasha motioned for her to stay behind him and began moving off in the direction of the gunfire. “Aargh! Get back!” they both heard someone exclaim. It sounded like Captain Roth to Sasha. He then heard what sounded like barking over the rain.

“That sounds like Roth,” said Lara, confirming his suspicions. Sasha began moving faster, with Lara keeping up. They were met with the sight of a middle-aged man with grey hair dual wielding a pair of full-size handguns, trying to fend off a group of wolves. Sasha couldn’t quite identify the weapons, but based on their report, estimated that they were firing .45 ACP.

Sasha didn’t wait, he snapped up his pistol and sent a pair of rounds through the remaining two wolves. “Roth!” exclaimed Lara, seeing the predicament that the man was in. “Roth, I’m coming!” Lara ran to his side. Roth was now sitting on the ground, leaning against a crate under a structure that was just a roof and four pillars. As he got closer, Sasha got a good look at the nasty wound on his leg. “Thank God you’re alive!” exclaimed Lara.

“That god’s got nothing to do with it,” replied Roth. They both looked at each other for a moment before he added, “it’s good to see you too, girl.” Roth then turned and regarded him, “Senior Lieutenant Voroboi, I presume?”

Sasha nodded, pulling down his balaclava with his injured left hand. “At your service, Captain Roth. Nice to finally meet you. Sorry we took so long; the locals were a little…uncooperative.”

Roth exhaled sharply, “I imagine they were, but thank you for bringing Lara here. Did Major Beloi have a plan for after this, or are we supposed to sit around with our thumbs up our arses?”

Sasha chose to ignore whether or not it was an insult or merely the way he spoke. Either way, he was beginning to like Roth. “There’s almost always a plan. Right now, I’m supposed to escort both of you to an outpost taken by my unit earlier today.”

Roth nods, “Not far from here, I presume?” Sasha took a look at his NRS-2 to double check this.

“No, it’s a short distance from here. We should be able to reach it before it gets much later,” he answered.

“No, we’re not leaving yet,” declared Lara adamantly. “The both of you are injured, you need medical attention.”

“It’s worse than it looks, I’m fine, really,” said Roth, trying to stand. Something about the look on his face made Sasha worry about just _how_ ‘fine’ he really was. Before Sasha could say anything, Roth collapsed with barely a grunt out of his mouth.

Lara instantly dropped to his side, “No, no, no, don’t do this to me you Northern bastard!” She looked at Roth for a moment before turning to look at him. “Thank God, he’s still alive. Pass me your med kit, please.”

Sasha fixed her with a look, “Are you sure you don’t want me to patch him up instead?”

“No, I’ve got it. You need to take a look at your own wounds first,” replied Lara.

Sasha nodded reluctantly and reaching into his patrol pack, he pulled out a fresh med kit for Lara. “Don’t stitch it, clean it, wash it and then dress it. We’ll have to hope he becomes conscious, otherwise we’re going to have to carry him. He needs _real_ medical attention.”

Lara nodded, “Don’t stitch it, clean it, wash it and dress it. Got it.” Sasha nodded and sat down, leaning against one of the pillars of the small dilapidated, ancient shelter Roth had built a fire near. Taking out his used med kit, Sasha began by removing his VOIN 3D leaf suit’s top half. The action sent pain shooting up his arm, causing him to suck his teeth. The next thing to come off was his plate carrier, carrier rig and patrol pack. The last thing to come off is his balaclava. The entire time, his SR1MP sat by his right, and his Vintorez by his left.

By the time he got the gear off, he could see how much blood had soaked into his uniform shirt. There was a dark patch around the cut in his upper arm where the arrow had grazed him. With a sigh, Sasha exchanged his gloves for the surgical ones in the med kit, and after slipping off the left side of his shirt, he got to work cleaning the wounds.

“How is it? Asked Lara, glancing over at him with a look of concern on her face.

Sasha gave her a one shouldered shrug as he began dressing the wound he’d sustained to his upper arm. It had bled a lot, but it still wasn’t deep or jagged enough to require stitches. “I’ve been hurt worse,” he answered truthfully. He noticed the look and hastily added, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to pass out. I’ll warn you if I am.” He flashed her a cheeky grin.

“God, Sasha, what am I going to do with you?” she asked, shaking her head. “Do you have any siblings?” she asked, a moment later.

“No, I’m an only child. Why?” he asked, as he began to fetch the remnants of the self-sterilized thread and needle to stitched himself back up.

It was Lara’s turn to have a cheeky grin now. “Well, it’s no wonder you’re so bloody impossible.”

Sasha scoffed, a hint of a smile forming on his face, “Oh, I see how it is. Well, what about you, any siblings?”

“No, but I did have a butler,” replied Lara, a grin on her face.

The hint of a smile on his face vanished, replaced by one of confusion, “I don’t get it…”

“Forget it, poor attempt at a joke,” said Lara. “Not easy, all of this.” She glanced down at Roth, “I’m glad he made it through.”

“You two are close?” Sasha asked as he grimaced, and then continued stitching. He knew the answer; he was just hoping that the question would provoke Lara into talking. Not only could _he_ use the distraction, but Sasha found himself fascinated by the girl, she had a very interesting life it seemed.

“Yes…he practically raised me after my dad passed. Taught me most of what I know,” said Lara as she finished dressing Roth’s wounds, with a fair degree of competency, Sasha noticed. “I don’t know where I’d be without him.” A weak smile formed on her face, “Would it be weird if I told you that I heard his voice in my head after you left me?”

“No, I often hear my instructors in my head too. Captain Valentin sometimes,” he admitted. Realizing that she didn’t know who that was, he quickly added, “He was the unit’s commanding officer before Major Beloi took over from him. He was a father figure to many of us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Sasha. At least we’re not alone in hearing words of wisdom when we need it, right? “asked Lara, smiling at him.

Something about her smile instantly put one on his face as well. Before he knew it, he was grinning like an idiot. Sasha cut the thread and began dressing the wound before he replied, “Right, we can be crazy together.”

“Hey!” protested Lara, amidst laughing at his jest. “We do seem to have that in common, amongst other things…”

Sasha jammed the preloaded syringe into his arm, feeling the slight sting but not reacting. “Sure, we’re both trying to keep you alive,” he added, dead as he pulled his uniform shirt on. When he looked back up, he could have sworn that he caught her looking.

“Hah, very funny,” said Lara as she looked over at Roth. “And…thanks, for everything really. I don’t know how I would have made it this far without you.”

“My pleasure, really, you make the job a lot easier,” he said, a slight smile forming on his face. He then added, “And you are one of the few people I’ve enjoyed spending time with.”

“I’m flattered, Sasha,” said Lara, blushing ever-so slightly, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “You’re a fun guy to be stuck on an island with. Would almost be romantic if it wasn’t for the homicidal cultists.”

Sasha did not expect to hear what he just did. He blinked several times to ascertain if he’d really heard what he did, or if it was his mind playing tricks on him. “Did you just…” he asked, dumbfounded, his voice trailing off.

“I did,” confirmed Lara, looking into his eyes now. Sasha found himself lost in those big, beautiful brown eyes of hers. Unconsciously, both of them moved closer to one another.

“That was until they were interrupted by Conrad Roth, “Can’t an old man get some sleep around here without you kids waking him up?”

“Roth!” breathed Lara, instantly getting up and helping him to lean against a nearby barrel. Sasha finished buttoning his shirt and began putting his gear back on, wondering if he’d been imagining what was happening earlier, or if the painkillers were messing with his head.

He watched as the two of them looked at each other, before they both returned their gazes to the fire, chuckling uneasily. Probably at how close to death Roth had been. “It’s not bad,” he then said, nodding appreciatively at the dressing on his leg. “Where did a young lady like you learn to do a thing like that?”

Lara laughed, though it sounded more like she was gasping for breath. A smile flickered across her features, “Late shift at the Nine Bells. A wolf’s got nothing on a broken bottle.” Sasha found himself smiling too.

Roth nodded slowly, a smile on his face as well. Turning to Sasha, he asked, “All good, Lieutenant?” nodding at the blood-soaked swabs that he had yet to dispose of.

Sasha nodded, “I’ll live. We have to make it to the outpost before it get’s much later. I’m sure they’ll send a search party in this direction before it’s morning.” He turned to Lara and added, “You’ve going to have to help Captain Roth.”

Lara looked hesitant, first down at Roth, then at the pistol holstered at her thigh. “You can do this, Lara. After all, you’re a Croft,” said Roth encouragingly.

“I don’t think I’m that kind of Croft,” replied Lara, her tone belaying a lack of confidence in herself.

“Sure, you are,” said Roth, looking to Sasha, who nodded. “You just don’t know it yet.” With that, he handed her a metal climbing axe. Lara took it and looked it over, then resumed staring at the ground.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you do it,” said Sasha. A cheeky grin flickered across his face, “That, and anyone else I’d trust to cover my six isn’t close enough.”

Lara shook her head slowly, “You know what you are, Sasha?” Sasha already knew the answer.

“Bloody impossible?” he asked in his best attempt at her accent, a broad grin on his face.

“Exactly,” confirmed Lara, a smile slowly forming on her face. The smile slowly faded, and she added, “Thank you, both of you.” She slipped one arm around Roth and asked, “Ready?”

Roth nodded, and Lara picked him up with his help. Once they were standing, Lara drew her pistol. “Here, take one of mine. I’ve only got one free hand,” said Roth, nodding to one of the handguns in his shoulder holster.

Lara looked at her appropriated weapon and then holstered it, drawing Roth’s pistol from his holster. She adjusted the grip on the weapon, feeling its weight in her hands before nodding appreciatively.

“It feels nice,” said Lara, aiming down the weapon’s sights.

Roth nodded, “.45 ACP, ported slide, competition trigger and threaded for a suppressor.” He reached into a pocked and produced a suppressor which Lara pocketed. Sasha nodded in appreciation as well. It was a fine weapon indeed. “After you, Lieutenant,” said Roth, nodding at the path ahead of them.

Sasha ejected and checked the magazine currently loaded, and once he was satisfied that he had enough ammunition, rocked the magazine back in and cycled the weapon’s action. “Davai,” he breathed, leading the way forward.

The route that they’d taken was overland rather than one that was possible by freeclimbing. This one was longer, but none of them were in the greatest shape to be climbing, so Sasha was grateful for the fact that they didn’t have to. Lara was managing well, and Roth was making the job considerably easier for her. The two of them conversed as they walked, most of which Sasha didn’t catch, given that he walked ahead of them for the most part, alert of anything that could be construed as a threat.

They were about seve4nty five percent of the way there when Sasha noticed that both Lara and Roth were lagging behind. Sasha had a quick look around to make sure that this was a relatively safe place to stop, and then stopped and waited for them to catch up, “We’ll take a quick break.”

Lara nodded, flashing him a grateful smile which he returned pointlessly from under his balaclava. Realizing this, he gave a nod of acknowledgement. She sat both herself and Roth against the trunk of a tree.

“We’re close,” said Sasha, consulting his NRS-2 one more time. “Three quarters of the way there.”

“You check your GRPS receiver an awful lot, how are you so sure it’s accurate?” asked Roth.

“It’s worked fine in places with far more background interference than this island,” replied Sasha, facing Roth and giving him a raised eyebrow look. “Relax, Captain Roth, it helped me take you this far. I doubt it will let me down now.”

“Roth nodded and then said, “Back in my day, we didn’t trust those things as far as we could throw them. Of course, back then, they weren’t so widespread.” He probably recognized the questioning look on Sasha’s face and quickly added, “40 Commando, Royal Marines. Two tours. I was at the Falklands.” Sasha nodded in understanding, and Roth followed up with a question about Sasha’s own service, “What about you, Senior Lieutenant?”

Sasha thought for a moment, looking Roth over as he did so. He was in the Royal Marines; things made a little more sense now. Roth certainly had that sort of air about him. “Two years in the Russian Army, particularly with the scouts. Served two years with the Spetsnaz GRU, four years in the Russian Special Operations Forces. My first four years were spent serving in Chechnya. Even Chechnya made more sense than this place…”

“Messy business, that. Hearing you say that makes me want to be off this accursed island even more,” said Roth. Sasha could see the disgust on his face. He felt the same about this place. Roth then turned to Lara, “Can’t tell you how much easier I was breathing when I heard that Senior Lieutenant Voroboi was back with you. A humorless thin-lipped smile formed on Lara’s face, and she nodded solemnly in agreement.

“We kept each other alive, this evening,” said Sasha, nodding at Lara. Lara gave him a somewhat doubting look. “I don’t think I would have thought of half the things we used to find ways around otherwise impassable obstacles without you tonight.”

Lara smiled sheepishly, “Well, perhaps not. Does that mean I get bragging rights?” A cheeky grin replaced the previous look on her face.

“Don’t push it,” he laughed, the mirth fading from his face as well as something finally occurred to him. “I’m not a spiritual man or anything, but does a ‘Sun Queen’ mean anything to either of you?” Both Lara and Roth immediately looked at him, their expressions answered his question. “Pav- Lieutenant Morozov was talking about some local legend that mentioned some kind of ‘Sun Queen’ who ruled from an island in the Dragon’s Triangle who could control storms.”

“We did come across a lot of ruins that would fit the time period,” said Lara. “Whitman seems to think that we might be onto something here.”

“Sure, if the locals weren’t trying to kill us, I’m sure it would be quite a rewarding study,” scoffed Sasha. “Mystical powers or not, I know one thing; short of diverting a submarine, we’re not getting off this island if the weather keeps up.”

“On that, we can both agree,” said Roth, nodding empathetically. “What is your extraction plan, Lieutenant? I never got the chance to ask Major Beloi,” asked Roth, furrowing his brows in thought and turning in his direction.

Sasha took a breath. Compartmentalization was important but seeing as the Solarii didn’t have any method to sink a US Navy amphibious assault ship, he didn’t see any harm. As far as he knew, that was what they were sending out once they’d received word that the mission was complete. Last he heard, the Americans were less than happy about recent events, nor were they particularly overjoyed about the circumstances that surrounded them.

“US Navy amphibious assault ship, if I’m remembering the briefing correctly,” replied Sasha. “Being Russian citizens, the Americans allowed us to go in, on the condition that thy be the ones to extract us and any survivors.”

“I don’t think that even they would last in a storm like that,” said Roth quietly. “I assume they’re not very pleased with the situation?”

“They’re less than happy,” replied Sasha, nodding. “Captain Zaitsyev only just managed to convince them not to send search and rescue aircraft.”

“If they’d been brought down by bad weather, I can imagine what kind of a nightmare that would be,” said Roth, the implications sinking in.

Lara was probably too intelligent to misunderstand the delicate situation. If she had anything to say on the matter, she kept it to herself. Sasha cleared his throat to get their attention, breaking the silence that had set in, “We should get moving again.”

A few exchanged nods later and they were on the move again. It wasn’t long before they’d all but reached the outpost. Sasha knew that his fellow operatives would be watching all approaches, and so he radioed in, “Eto Voroboi, we are making our approach, priyem.”

“Voroboi, eto Davydova. Good to hear your voice. Was starting to think that you’d reach us tomorrow instead of today, priyem,” came the voice of Senior Lieutenant Alyena Davydova, his fellow marksman and one his closest friends.

“Should you be so lucky, Alyena,” he laughed. “Be advised, we are approaching from the North, priyem.” He could see the perimeter wall in the distance. There wasn’t a side entrance so much as there was a collapsed wall section. A moment later, a figure in a VOIN 3D leaf suit and Ratnik gear stood in the gap. “Come on,” he said, turning to Lara and Roth, “we’re here.”

They crossed the gap in good time. Sasha was sure that Alyena was smiling under her balaclava. “Good to see you, Sasha,” she said, using her left hand to pull the bottom portion of her balaclava down. The smile on her face was warm and genuine. Her smile was replaced by a polite one, and she then tilted her head, so she was looking past Sasha at Roth and Lara. “Captain Roth and Ms. Croft, I presume?”

“That’s right,” said Roth, nodding. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.” Sasha could have sworn that he detected the slightest hint of sarcasm in his tone but said nothing on the matter.

“Lara, Captain Roth, this is Senior Lieutenant Alyena Davydova, fellow marksman, and a very close friend of mine,” said Sasha.

“A pleasure to meet you,” said Alyena, nodding in acknowledgement.

“The sketch doesn’t do you justice,” said Lara, returning Alyena’s smile.

“Oh?” she asked, casting a knowing glance in Sasha’s direction. “He showed you his sketchbook, did he?”

“Just to keep her busy while I was cooking,” replied Sasha.

“Cooking? Don’t you mean _burning_?” laughed Alyena as she turned back to Lara, “Was any of it edible? Don’t worry, you won’t have to endure his cooking tonight.” Lara laughed, while Roth merely raised an eyebrow. “Davai, let’s get inside. You should probably get looked at by our medic. His bedside manner is usually very good, but he’s a little overworked today, so bear that in mind.”

“If he’s anything like the rest of you, then I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” said Roth, and the three of them followed behind Alena as she took his response as a cue to lead them inside.

There were no bodies lying out in the open, but the blood splatters told Sasha everything he needed to know. “Did they give you much trouble?” he asked, noticing the large number of blood splatters.

“No more than you would expect. Fought hard to keep their prisoner. She wasn’t in the best of shape when we got to her. Artyom tells me that she’ll be just fine,” answered Alyena.

“She?” asked Lara hopefully. Sasha had a good feeling that she was hoping for news about her friend, Samantha Nishimura.

Alyena shook her head slowly, “Not your friend, sorry. This was one of the passengers of the yacht we were deployed to rescue.” Alyena sighed, “Seems like we were too late, so far it looks like less than a quarter of the crew and passengers survived.”

“I’m sure that number would be far smaller if they didn’t haver you looking for them. I can certainly say the same about my own crew,” remarked Roth.

“Thank you. In any case, I would have liked to have saved more,” said Alyena. It was about that time where they came to where Pavel and Artyom were inspecting salvaged equipment alongside Illya.

All three men turned around and seeing him, Pavel exclaimed in joy, “Ura! Sasha has joined us at last!” He looked over at Roth and then cleared his throat, an air of ‘professionalism’ taking over. “Lieutenant Morozov, this is Lieutenant Chyornyj and Senior Lieutenant Petrovich.”

Artyom smiled politely and nodded while Illya just nodded. “This is Captain Conrad Roth and Ms. Lara Croft,” said Sasha, stepping aside so that the two could be seen better. “Tyoma, Captain Roth took a nasty bite from a wolf. Can you help him?”

Artyom immediately stood to his feed and fished inside his pack for his med kit, “Ay blyat, and this is why they gave me things to deal with dog bites…” he breathed. “Here, I’ll take him from you,” he said to Lara, motioning for her to hand him over.

Lara handed him over, watching until Artyom and Roth were out of sight. Sasha watched her for a moment, a borrowed plate carrier in his hand, 6B46 “Operator-4” from the looks of it. Lara turned when she noticed him, “What have you got there?”

“This is a 6B46 plate carrier. It probably came from the Wagner operatives who were guarding the yacht, but I think you should take it now,” said Sasha. “Don’t worry, it is not too heavy.” Lara still looked somewhat hesitant and so he added, “Look, at least this way I don’t have to keep putting myself in front of bullets for you, right?” He was grinning like an idiot now.

“Well, I suppose when you put it that way,” said Lara, taking the plate carrier from him and slipping it over her head. Lara looked around at the side straps and a moment later apparently figured out how to secure them.

“Is that right?” she asked, raising her arm slightly and turning so that Sasha could see the side of her plate carrier.

Sasha nodded, “Yes, that’s correct. First time too, or is this not your first time?” He was more than a little caught off guard by how easily Lara managed to secure her plate carrier. “Does it fit well?” he asked, it looked a little large on her, but they didn’t have a huge amount of choice here,

“It seems alright,” replied Lara, looking up from her plate carrier to Sasha. The both of them caught each other’s eyes for a moment, before Sasha turned away slowly, clearing his throat.

“Right, well, there are some guns over here if you want to take a look,” he said, turning toward the table where his comrades had placed several guns. “As good as you are with that bow, and with that pistol, it can’t hurt.” As he glanced back at Lara, he caught a very smug Pavel standing near the table. “Chevo?” he asked, giving Pavel and annoyed look. He had a good feeling he knew what his comrade was smiling about.

“O, nichego24,” said Pavel with faux innocence. Sasha had a mind to say something, but realized that would only prove Pavel right, so he tried to make his face as neutral as he could. Lara in the meanwhile had after casting a curious glance in Sasha and Pavel’s direction, walked up to the table and was looking at the weapons on it. “Ignore the state of that stock, I put a few rounds through the M-14, it shoots decently,” said Pavel, any sign of the smug look that was on his face now gone.

“I’ll have to pass,” said Lara, looking at the M-14 then settling her eyes on the HK416. “I wonder where they got their hands on any of these…” she breathed.

“Those AEK-971s came from the Wagner operatives that were on the yacht. They were contracted to provide anti-piracy security. This area is apparently not very safe, who’d have thought, eh?” he asked, a wry grin on his face. He exhaled sharply and then looked over at the other guns, “As for the others? Well, your guess is probably as good as ours.”

“The 14 isn’t accurized, and I doubt your going to find too much ammunition for that 416. But if you take an 971, there’s more ammunition at our primary encampment,” said Alyena, who’d been watching from a short distance away. A smile slowly found it’s way onto her face, “That, and Sasha can teach you to handle it just as well as any of us would.”

Lara looked unsure at the rifle, probably a victim of the false notion that AK and AK derivative rifles were designed to be fired on full auto and weren’t very accurate. “Don’t worry, that’s probably one of the more accurate rifles you’ll use.” Lara nodded, and seemingly reassured, picked up the AEK-971 and turned to follow him.

As they walked off toward one side of the camp, Sasha heard Pavel call, “Don’t be late for dinner you two!” Sasha ignored him. Nothing could really ruin this moment; he was getting to share his knowledge with a woman whose company he very much enjoyed.

Junior Lieutenant Natalya Abramovna

It was properly dark now, and the moonlight alone wasn’t the best to navigate by, but Natalya didn’t have to rely on it. Her night vision monocular enabled her to not have to stumble around like an idiot. The IR laser on her AS Val was on, she wasn’t taking a chance with the natives. The Solarii, they called themselves. She glanced at her NPI-2 GLONASS receiver as she moved through the thick brush. Her commanding officer’s signal was still a ways ahead, approximately 500 meters out. She’d told him that she’d radio in when she was 100 meters out.

She wasn’t exactly concerned about that. Rendezvousing with her commanding officer wasn’t something that needed her direct attention. What _was_ on her mind was Sasha and the girl he was watching over, Lara. Sasha was one of the most dedicated soldiers that she knew. The job was always first with him. When he’d almost thrown himself into the open without first checking to see if it was clear, Natalya began to suspect that something else was involved.

She’d known Sasha for a while, and he was one of her closest friends along with Alyena. For the most part, other than her, Sasha had all the social graces of a chimpanzee when it came to other women. Well, it wasn’t that bad, but he tended to talk too much and say things that maybe he shouldn’t. With Lara, that didn’t seem to be the case. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was something going on there. Not that she minded, she didn’t quite like Sasha in that way. He was a nice guy, he just wasn’t really her type.

She worried if he was thinking with his head, especially after he nearly got himself killed when they were trying to reach Lara in the first place. She _knew_ he was better than that though. She almost let out a sigh, there was enough to worry about, especially given how pizdec16 this place was, without having to start worrying about Sasha. She knew that he’d be fine.  

She checked her GLONASS receiver, just to take her mind off of her thoughts. She was about a hundred meters out, give or take inaccuracies because of signal degradation. She keyed her mic, “Tovarisch major, eto Abramovna, I’m one hundred meters from your position, priyem.” Major Beloi and the survivors of the Endurance had given up the search for the night. He could keep going, but the others didn’t have night vision gear like he did, and fatigue from the day’s events was starting to take hold. She didn’t mind either way, made rendezvousing with him a lot easier.

“Obshchepriznannyy, accommodations are four stars, you can’t miss them. Look for a crashed Amerikantsy B-17 bomber, priyem,” replied her Major. Natalya was tempted to ask him if he was serious. They’d seen a fair few wrecks on the island, but an American World War II-era heavy bomber? What the hell was this island? This side of the world’s Bermuda Triangle? Now she was wondering how she hadn’t heard of this place before.

“Tak tochna, tovarisch major, konets svyazi,” she replied, clicking her mike off as she continued on her way, continuing at a steady pace making good time. From what she could tell, they’d already made camp. Natalya didn’t mind, it had been a long day. She would _not_ say no to the opportunity to rest, even if it was only for a short amount of time. When you were in this line of work, you learned to grab rest whenever you could for however long was possible.

It wasn’t long before she could hear the muffled sounds of conversation. She came around the left side of a large tree in her path and instantly got the feeling that there was a weapon pointed in her direction. “Relax, she’s with me,” she heard her commanding officer say. She came around to see her commanding officer sitting with several others around a fire that had been constructed near the tail end of what was definitely a B-17.

She could see her Major forcing the barrel of a shotgun that was in the hands of a large, heavily muscled man, down. She didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at her, she knew Natalya took a few steps forward and then snapped off a smart salute at her commanding officer, “Tovarisch Major, reporting as ordered.”

“Natasha, it is good to see you,” he said, and Natalya was almost sure that she could hear genuine relief in his voice. “Everyone, this is Junior Lieutenant Natalya Abramovna. My technician and signals analyst.” Natalya nodded her own greeting, looking over everyone present. She used her left hand to pull her balaclava down so that her face was visible, her right still holding the grip of her rifle.

The silence was uncomfortable for a moment, until it was broken by the only woman in the group. “I didn’t know there were women in your unit, Major Beloi,” she said, turning to face him.

She saw her Major chuckle, “Can’t give away all our secrets now, can we? It’s a little known fact. Anyone who meets the standards and can consistently keep to them gets to stay. Let’s be real though, if that got out, you know your media would be writing articles about how we’re putting women in harms way for no reason.”

Even in the low light, Natalya could see her roll her eyes before she turned to look at her, “Is he always like this or is this him trying to be normal in front of us civilians? It’s a pleasure to meet you by the way. I’m Joslin. Joslin Reyes. Used to be the mechanic on the _Endurance_.”

Natalya knew that a boat held a special place in the hearts of three particular crew positions. It’s captain, it’s helmsman and it’s head engineer or mechanic. “My condolences then,” said Natalya with a solemn nod. A grin flickered across her face as he considered the question about her commanding officer, “Major Beloi is a consummate professional, with a very _unique_ style of command. I wouldn’t serve under any other officer.”

Natalya noted that her response got a few chuckles from those present. Reyes was smiling now. “Well, Major, she’s a smart one isn’t she. Aren’t you lucky?”

“Not a day goes by where I don’t thank the Lord that Natalya was assigned to my unit,” said Vasily, a genuine smile on his face. Natalya knew this, but never let it affect her work ethic. She also knew that while her skills were a valuable addition that came in handy many a time, she also knew that as far as combat was concerned she was very much the weakest link in the unit, and the rest of the unit had her undying gratitude for watching out for her when combat got particularly bad. Of course, she was still very much deserving of her position both during their Spetsnaz GRU days and now in SSU, the others had made sure that she knew that too, Major Beloi in particular.

She caught a frown on her Major’s face, and before she could wonder as to what had caused it, he answered that with his question to Reyes. “Your first name is Joslin? You never told me that.”

Reyes laughed, “You never asked, Major. I was expecting you to at some time, but this is later than even _I_ expected you to do it.” Natalya chuckled, and she saw her major shaking his head slowly, then turning and giving her a look that he often had on his face when he knew he couldn’t win an argument.

This exchange was interrupted by the older man in the group, whom Natalya only got a good look at when he spoke. “Angus Grimaldi, helmsman of the _Endurance_. I’m gonna admit that I never thought that I’d see the day where I’d see a woman who was a commando. Still, I’m glad you’re here with us, lassie.”

Natalya returned his statement with a smile and a polite nod, taking it for what it was, a compliment. The big man who’d pointed the shotgun at her earlier stood up, leaving his weapon on the ground and extended a massive meaty hand out to her in greeting. “Jonah Maiava, sorry I pointed a shotgun at you earlier, Junior Lieutenant Abramovna.”

“Don’t be sorry for being alert, but don’t be surprised if next time you don’t hear me coming,” said Natalya, a confident grin having formed on her face, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. Which certainly wasn’t an easy task, her hand looked like a little girl’s compared to his.

The broadest grin she’d seen on anyone’s face immediately flickered across Jonah’s face, “Lara manages to do that a lot, so don’t worry, I’m quite used to it! Only managed to catch her when I thought her rummaging through the pantry was a mouse. Brought new meaning to quiet as a mouse.” Some of the others, the unidentified fourth member and Mr. Grimaldi managed laughs, while Reyes still smirked.

Natalya nodded, laughing. Jonah was funny, instantly likeable. “Well, Junior Lieutenant Abramovna, you should probably join us. Jonah was just about to cook us some dinner, and you _don’t_ want to miss that.” Natalya turned to the source of the voice, the fourth member of the group that she hadn’t been introduced to yet. Natalya nodded and walked forward, sitting down between her Major and the young man who’d just spoken. He extended his hand to her once she’d sat down, “I’m Alex, by the way. Alex Weiss. I was the Endurance’s technician.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex,” said Natalya shaking his hand, and only then noticing his shirt, which brought a smile to her face. “I like your shirt, the state of the escape key can tell you a lot about what a person’s computer habits are, eh?”

Alex seemed caught off guard by this, because he took a noticeable moment to react to her statement, only then letting out a short laugh, “Yeah, that it does. It’ll be nice to have someone that understands my jokes.”

“Alex, we _understand_ your jokes just fine,” said Reyes, giving him a look. “They just ain’t funny.” Natalya had to stop herself from laughing, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She tried to look away so that Alex wouldn’t see that she was smiling, and saw her commanding officer retrieving his rations and handing them to Jonah.

Major Beloi must have followed her glance, because he smiled and said, “So I think it’s time I told you that Jonah has a reputation for making rations taste better since his days in the New Zealand Army, and that applies to ours as well. Don’t tell Vitya17, but I think Jonah here might be a little better than he is.” Jonah looked slightly concerned at Vasily, but he waved him off, “Don’t worry, what Viktor doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Natalya still noted a confused look on Jonah’s face, so she decided to clarify, “Our unit’s second in command.” Jonah nodded and then went back to preparing the evening’s meal. Natalya decided to leave him to it. Usually they cooked their own meals, and so this was a luxury that they seldom got. She was going to enjoy this while she could.

Once everyone was nursing a drink from the ration pack and the crackers, cheese and Pashtet had been passed around, Jonah had warmed up the food. They’d split the four meals between the six of them equally, and so everyone got to eating. At first it was quiet, everyone was pretty hungry and so food was eaten quietly. Alex was the one that finally broke the silence, “Man, this meal hit’s the spot. Only thing I miss is a hot shower and warm bed.”

“It’s pretty warm around here, and you miss a _warm_ bed?” asked her commanding officer, looking up from his meal with a confused and somewhat concerned look on his face. This brought a smile to Natalya’s face. She knew what Alex was trying to say, but she still found it funny.

“Well, you know, a comfortable bed,” corrected Alex. “Hey, I got one. What was something that you’d have liked to have done before you got stuck here. Not, like a final thing or anything. Just a, something you’d have liked to have done.”

“Spent more time with my baby girl,” responded Reyes, letting out what sounded to Natalya like a regretful sigh. “I’m getting off this island, and I’m going to see her again, but…I’d have liked to spend a little more time with her.”

“Everybody is getting off this island,” said Major Beloi. “As long as we have ammunition left, that is. If we’re out of bullets, well, that might become just a little bit more difficult.” Natalya laughed again, appreciating her Major’s attempt to make light of the situation.

“Comforting, Major,” said Reyes, giving him a look, but Natalya swore that even in the low light she could see a hint of a smile on the woman’s face. Reyes then glanced at Mr. Grimaldi, “What about you, Grim?”

“Maybe go sailing on Betty one more time,” he said, looking away into the distance. “I’ve been neglecting the poor old lass.” Grim’s Scottish accent made it somewhat difficult for Natalya to pick up on what he was saying, but she made do.

Alex then turned to her and Major Beloi, “What about you two? I’m sure you guys have interests outside of…you know, being commandos. Right? I mean, Major, catch-up gaming with your cousin?”

Natalya glanced at her Major, giving him a knowing look. She knew that while he liked his cousin, Major Beloi was no gamer. That and she knew that before their vacation was cut short for their previous deployment, Major Beloi had a very important dinner date that he had to cancel.

He must have seen the look she was giving him, because he sighed. “Well, actually, there was a dinner date I had missed that I was looking forward to taking a raincheck for. So, if I wasn’t here, I’d be there. Enjoying good food, and better company.” Silence had set in immediately after her Major finished speaking, and all eyes except hers were on him. “What?” he asked, looking at them. “Does it surprise you that much that I have a significant other?”

“No, Major, I for one just never figured you for a romantic,” said Reyes, giving him a questioning look. “I mean, shit, it makes sense. Most of the ex-special forces tough guys I knew were hopeless romantics.”

“Well, thanks, I guess?” asked Major Beloi frowning ever so slightly and then shrugging before a devious grin appeared on his face. Natalya immediately didn’t like the look of that. That meant that the gears in his head were turning, and usually when that was happening he was cooking up some new and ridiculous plan, that more often than not worked extremely well. What he was planning, she could only guess. “Natasha, what about you? Anything in particular you wanted to have finished?”

Natalya was giving her Major a suspicious look, before shrugging slightly and awkwardly giving her answer, “It’s nothing so…er, profound, as your answers, but uh…well, I would have liked to have finished Mass Effect 3 before we deployed.” She added softly, “Just started Chronos station too.”

Her answer was met with a flurry of questions from Alex, “Wait, you play Mass Effect? Femshep or Maleshep? Did you play the other games? Who’d you romance, I mean, er- in game, of course! Did you lose anyone on the suicide mission?” Alex’s sudden outburst earned him a few looks, and he immediately cringed, “Sorry.”

Natalya laughed, not really caring for the apology. She found his sudden enthusiasm over a shared interest somewhat endearing. “Apology not required from my end, and to answer your questions. Yes. Femshep. One, two and all the DLCs. Garrus, of course. No one died, on my second run of course. First one, yes, but it was Miranda so no loss.”

Alex immediately laughed, “Yeah, Miranda’s not my favorite either. I don’t have anything against Yvonne Strahovski, loved her in Chuck, but Miranda, well…”

“I have only seen the first season, is this your recommendation to keep watching?” asked Natalya.

“Well, I guess since the real thing’s quite familiar to you, you may find it more than a little bit cheesy,” replied Alex. “You guys do occasionally work with intelligence, right? Or more than occasionally? You know what, forget I asked.”

“Smart man,” said Vasily, cleaning out his mess kit. “What you don’t know can’t get you killed.” He paused for a moment, tossing his side from one side to the other before adding, “Well, not always the case, but a good policy to stick by.”

“First season wasn’t terrible, but I’ll take your word for it and pick up on the next few seasons when we get out of here,” said Natalya. When she’d joined the service, she’d come to terms with the fact that where she died would be somewhere not of her choosing. Only she was determined not to die here on this island, where she didn’t know who she was fighting and why other than the simple reason that they would kill her and hers if she didn’t.

Before the conversation could restart, Major Beloi spoke up, “I know the prospect of sitting here and talking into the night is a tempting one, but we should all try to get some sleep. If we stand any chance of picking up Ms. Nishimura’s trail, we’re going to have to start early, da?” He looked around at everyone present for some sort of response. Natalya gave him a confident nod, and then once he was convinced that the others were in agreement as well, he nodded to himself. “Khorosho18, I’m taking first watch. Natasha, you’re second. Do I have any volunteers to join us?”

Natalya looked around at those assembled. Personally, there was no one really that she would mind having to pull watch with. Even Grim, he probably had more than a few stories, and the only one she’d heard complaints of over the radio was Whitman, who was still missing. Reyes stood up, and shrugging, she then nodded, “Sure, first watch doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Do you want to take second for me this time, Alex?” asked Jonah as he cleared up the leftovers of dinner preparation. Natalya glanced over at Jonah, trying to scrutinize his face to see if there was any ulterior motive here. Natalya was unable to discern anything however on the mask of perpetual positivity that was Jonah’s facial expression.

“Uh, sure, I’ll do you a solid,” said Alex, giving Jonah what Natalya was sure was a weak smile. Whether this was out of confusion or something else, Natalya was unsure. She thought nothing of it and got to cleaning off her mess kit so that she could pack it up. Alex turned in her direction and said, “So, Junior Lieutenant, looks like we’ve both got second watch.”

“Da, which means we should both get some sleep. I can confirm that trying to sleep after taking watch is harder than before,” said Natalya, packing away her now clean mess kit into her patrol pack. She then nodded back at the tail gunner position of the B-17, “I call tail gunner.”

“You’re going to sleep _inside_ the bomber?” asked Alex, eyeing the old wreck suspiciously. “Aren’t there going to be snakes or spiders in there?”

“Right, and what exactly do you think is going to be outside?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, with an amused look on her face.

“Relax, Alex,” said Jonah, smiling ear to ear as he placed a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder. “The Lieutenant and I will make sure there isn’t anything inside that could give us an unpleasant surprise.”

Alex adopted a sheepish expression on his face as he suddenly decided that his shoes were very interesting. “Thanks,” he said, barely audible, and probably feeling more than a little foolish. Natalya couldn’t help but smile. To think that Pasha had said that she was going to be bored out of her skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations in text in the order they appeared are as follows. Feel free to PM me if I missed something.   
> 1\. This is Zaitsyev  
> 2\. Fuckers  
> 3\. Shit  
> 4\. Bitches  
> 5\. Clear  
> 6\. Fuck  
> 7\. Comrades  
> 8\. Reporting for duty  
> 9\. At ease  
> 10\. Affirmative  
> 11\. Comrade   
> 12\. Fuck off  
> 13\. Come on (in this context), Let’s go  
> 14\. Fucker  
> 15\. Acknowledged  
> 16\. Fucked up  
> 17\. Diminutive of Viktor  
> 18\. Good  
> 19\. Over  
> 20\. Out (literally, connection terminated)   
> 21\. Fucking perfect (sarcastic)  
> 22\. Nothing (adverb)

**Author's Note:**

> Notes
> 
> Ah, hello readers! I congratulate you for getting this far! I haven’t firmed up on choosing to go on with this story, but I thought I’d see if there was any interest from anyone! The story idea has been floating around my head for a while. So, we’ll see, maybe I’ll continue it regardless.
> 
> I’ve decided to keep Russian conversations in English, because to you as readers it makes no sense if I unleashed my very limited Russian on you. I will still try and insert bits and pieces to remind, you, the reader, that it’s not in English.
> 
> For those who are confused with Russian diminutive names, I’m sorry, but they’re not hard once you get the hang of them I promise.
> 
> Also, I’m looking for a beta reader, if any of you feel up to the task please PM me.
> 
> Looking forward to hearing from you! Till the next time…


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